I am Canadian
I am Canadian. My immediate neighbours were born in Finland, India, Russia, the Philippines, and Guatemala. When my daughter was in elementary school, the music teacher taught the children a song to perform for the parents on concert night. I still remember some of the lyrics – they brought tears of thankfulness to my eyes.
“We are one, but we are many, and from many lands we’ve sprung…I am, you are, we are Canadian.”
Yes, I am Canadian, native born. My husband is a naturalized Canadian. While the politics of his native country spiral out of control, he takes a break from the online reporting of deeply troubling events in his homeland to read the local paper. In the Sun he sees a news story about the outcome of a long-awaited trial. This concerned four police officers who tasered an unarmed man to death at the Vancouver Airport and were later charged with conspiring to lie about how it happened. Two got off because there was reasonable doubt about their guilt, but the others were found guilty. My husband shakes his head. “That is a country,” he pronounces. “That is democracy.”
A couple of days later, I pick up the newspaper and read an article based on an interview with one of the nation’s great writers, Joseph Boyden. Like so many other Canadians, he is of mixed ancestry. Born in northern Ontario, he has Irish, Scottish and Anishnabe roots. Before the recent US election, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was invited to a state dinner with President Obama in Washington. Asked to bring a book that represented Canada, the PM chose Boyden’s first novel, Three Day Road. The story portrays the horrifying army experience of an indigenous sharpshooter in WWI, and then describes a perilous healing journey he undertakes with his grandmother, back to his northern home.
Interestingly, Boyden lives for large part of the year in New Orleans, where he finds the “physical and geographic distance” from Canada that enable him to write about it. In that recent interview, he talks about the fear that lies “at the heart of many of our problems,” and “is being peddled around the globe” by Donald Trump and by others elsewhere. In spite of the dark history involving native children and government and church sponsored residential schools, Joseph Boyden feels optimistic about politics in Canada now. He is pleased to see Prime Minister Justin Trudeau avoiding fear tactics, and is convinced that this helped him achieve a majority government in this nation with its “more collective open mind.”
How fortunate I am to be Canadian. From any branch of the local public library, I can obtain a free library card and then borrow books, magazines and videos. Canadians have the ability to read the work of people who have been jailed in other countries for expressing their views in writing. Recently, I’ve been enjoying the works of Elif Shafak, a Turkish novelist who was threatened with a jail term for writing a story which her government deemed to “insult Turkishness.” Because I am Canadian, I find it impossible to imagine the government stepping in to tell someone that a certain story has insulted Canadianness. The very idea seems absurd. Here in Canada, whatever I write may be published, provided, of course, that it does not incite hate against individuals or groups. That prohibition is the only legal limitation our nation has on free speech.
I am well aware of the good fortune we have, living in the spacious nation of Canada. My family is not rich, but as middle class working people, we have been able to use our earnings to buy a large detached house in a safe green suburb with excellent public recreation facilities. Reliable public transit makes it easy to commute to work in the city. Sitting in our quiet, peaceful garden, we glimpse blue herons and hear birdsong. From our back porch we occasionally see or hear wildlife, including coyotes and raccoons. Our home includes a double garage, and behind our property is a green belt; others cannot see into our back garden, nor we into theirs.
I am Canadian. I live in a country with fresh air and fresh water. The climate in this part of the country is moderately warm. The plentiful rain soaks the rainforests that surround our city and the many crops that grow in the fertile valley we call home, and our rivers are full of fish.
As a Canadian, if I or my family members get ill, we don’t have to worry about the cost of treatment. Our health plan covers doctor visits, medical tests and treatments, hospitalization, and even many prescriptions. Here in Canada, collective bargaining is legal. Courtesy of our trade unions, my husband and I have enjoyed dental insurance as well as extended health benefits.
I am Canadian. My native country maintains the policy of funding a public school system that requires children to attend school between the ages of 6 and 16, and provides educational places for them in public schools located near their homes. After high school, and regardless of social or economic status, anyone who wants to continue studying can find ample opportunity to attend any of a wide range of post-secondary educational and training institutions. Those who need to can finance their education with student loans.
As a Canadian, I have enjoyed unparalleled social freedoms: to wear what I want, go where I want, speak openly, and join any groups I want to. These privileges are enjoyed by all Canadians, as our collective national ideal is a liberal one. We aspire to live as a community of free and educated individuals who enjoy equal opportunities. It is against our constitution and social values to discriminate against others because of their origins, ethnic identities, religions, or sexual orientations.
I carry a Canadian passport. In my many travels outside Canada, I have never once been subjected to search or delay at a border crossing.
Enjoying the peace and safety of my back porch, I ponder these things. I am not proud to be Canadian. After all, I did nothing to earn or deserve such a fortunate birthplace. Since being born here was all that was required for my citizenship, it makes no sense to take pride in my nationality. Indeed, I suspect and disapprove of too much nationalism, and I frequently feel critical of the behaviour of nations themselves. I know that our “peaceable kingdom” has a flawed and imperfect system of government, which has perpetrated wrongs and injustices in the nation’s name. In this, Canada is neither the only offender nor the worst one.
No, I am not proud to be Canadian. But I am grateful. I enjoy the luxury of living in a country where we are often guilty of taking our many privileges for granted simply because we’ve grown used to them. Far from taking Canadianness for granted, I am thankful for our vast and spacious nation, our social and cultural diversity, our democratic values and government system. For all of this and more I am profoundly grateful that I was born in this country and no other. Thank God I’m Canadian.