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In times when it's so easy to be cynical about life, the universe and everything, I remain resolutely proud and grateful to be Canadian.
I can't claim to be a purposeful refugee from Down There: I moved to Hongcouver in December 1989 in a futile attempt to escape my almost entirely unfun life in NYC. I figured a year, perhaps a bit more. Really I wasn't move towards anything--I was running away. I heartily recommend a life based on purpose rather than panic--and Hongcouver is a stunningly beautiful place to contemplate the meaning of It All.
But falling in love with Canada was easy. Genuine warmth, less guardedness, clean, well-run. The first time I went to the doctor and didn't pay anything inspired giggles, like I was shoplifting or something. I found my shoulders dropping severalinches centimetres, after watching my back in NYC for 20+ years. I learned to relax.
I also learned to listen and not just talk. I found Canadians to be rather well-informed about local, national and international issues. Having opinions, I quickly learned, was fine; stridency was received with a forced smile, silence and a lack of a return invitation. I learned that one could socialize with persons holding different opinions. I learned that homogeneity was boring and dangerous if at times more comfortable. I learned that everything wasn't about me, though I was important. I learned what us and we meant. I became a genuine member of something. Something really, really cool.
I believe that everything starts with justice: economic, political and social issues can be sorted more easily if people feel that life is reasonably fair. I found Canadians were pretty adept at differentiating between what they liked/were comfortable with, and what was fair. It's a profoundly different approach to creating a social fabric. It starts from tolerance and moves quickly towards celebration. It intrinsically values humans and humanity. And, contrary to what some might argue, it's not relativistic: cultural practice isn't accepted as a de facto justification for anything. It's toothy and substantive.
A couple of days ago we had a national election. While my party (the NDP) didn't get as many seats as I would have hoped, the results broadly confirmed what I thought about My Country: social convservatism never achieves a broad national consensus, and Canadians cherish their notion of justice (and our incredible Constitution and Charter of Rights and Freedoms). And that, while we may not be able to give a cookie-cutter, bullet list description of what being a Canadian means, we share sensibilties and values. Eastern, Central, Western, Northern, Indigenous, francophone, anglophone, allophone, straight, queer, young and old.
I am Canadian. I am one of the luckiest people in the world. I am so, so profoundly grateful.
Happy Canada Day!
I can't claim to be a purposeful refugee from Down There: I moved to Hongcouver in December 1989 in a futile attempt to escape my almost entirely unfun life in NYC. I figured a year, perhaps a bit more. Really I wasn't move towards anything--I was running away. I heartily recommend a life based on purpose rather than panic--and Hongcouver is a stunningly beautiful place to contemplate the meaning of It All.
But falling in love with Canada was easy. Genuine warmth, less guardedness, clean, well-run. The first time I went to the doctor and didn't pay anything inspired giggles, like I was shoplifting or something. I found my shoulders dropping several
I also learned to listen and not just talk. I found Canadians to be rather well-informed about local, national and international issues. Having opinions, I quickly learned, was fine; stridency was received with a forced smile, silence and a lack of a return invitation. I learned that one could socialize with persons holding different opinions. I learned that homogeneity was boring and dangerous if at times more comfortable. I learned that everything wasn't about me, though I was important. I learned what us and we meant. I became a genuine member of something. Something really, really cool.
I believe that everything starts with justice: economic, political and social issues can be sorted more easily if people feel that life is reasonably fair. I found Canadians were pretty adept at differentiating between what they liked/were comfortable with, and what was fair. It's a profoundly different approach to creating a social fabric. It starts from tolerance and moves quickly towards celebration. It intrinsically values humans and humanity. And, contrary to what some might argue, it's not relativistic: cultural practice isn't accepted as a de facto justification for anything. It's toothy and substantive.
A couple of days ago we had a national election. While my party (the NDP) didn't get as many seats as I would have hoped, the results broadly confirmed what I thought about My Country: social convservatism never achieves a broad national consensus, and Canadians cherish their notion of justice (and our incredible Constitution and Charter of Rights and Freedoms). And that, while we may not be able to give a cookie-cutter, bullet list description of what being a Canadian means, we share sensibilties and values. Eastern, Central, Western, Northern, Indigenous, francophone, anglophone, allophone, straight, queer, young and old.
I am Canadian. I am one of the luckiest people in the world. I am so, so profoundly grateful.
Happy Canada Day!
