I'd like to share this wonderful article from the Toronto Star on this Canada Day.
http://www.thestar.com/comment/article/452001
What it means to be Canadian
We are a series of disparate stories held together by our deep desire to be decent
Jul 01, 2008 04:30 AM
Rochelle Burns
In 1967, a non-Canadian tourist bought me lunch in Europe. It was in exchange for one of my Canadian flag logos on my backpack. That was the first time I really thought about how "wow" the rest of the world thought it was to be a born-in-Canada Canadian.
About 35 years later, I was appointed a citizenship judge. This is what I learned between those two events about what being Canadian really means.
Outsiders say, "You Canadians are so polite." Watch it. That can be a euphemism for, "You're rather naïve." Let me set the record straight. We are polite; we are compassionate. Being polite and compassionate are not synonyms for naïveté but for open-mindedness.
Canadians see the other side of the point.
We do not make much of a fuss about this exceptional national trait. We are understated. As Canadian communications guru Marshall McLuhan once put it: "Canadians are the people who learned to live without the bold accents of the natural ego-trippers of other lands." Elsewhere there are blustery, glitzy, look-at-us pageants. Elsewhere there are shouts from the spires of revisionist history. Notwithstanding, all is deafened by the understatedness of Canadians.
When you feel comfortable with who you are, you do not have to make noise.
Travelling abroad makes Canadians want to come back and kiss the ground of their country, no matter how much fun the journey was. If you ask Canadians why, they often go blank. They know, yet cannot quite put it into words. It is another form of our understatedness.
Those from other countries, however, have no trouble articulating Canada's merits. Actor Jane Fonda once said, "When I'm in Canada, I feel this is what the world should be like."
Canadians see Canada as the place where one complains about ice and snow. But remember, part of our Canadian identity is that we see the other side of any point. Snow and ice also mean skiing, hockey, snowmobiling and tobogganing.
To me, one of nature's most serene beauties is a windless Canadian snowfall. When you are 6 years old, you can stand outside and stick your tongue out to catch the flakes.
When you are 60 years old, you can appreciate that the symbol of the Order of Canada is a snowflake, illustrating that all recipients are like snowflakes, all unique. And polite and definitely able to see the other side of the point.
I wonder why we are like this. We are a country of immigrants. We always have been. We come from all over bringing with us all of the planet's faiths, outlooks and styles of living. I have a theory that the overwhelming majority attracted to live in Canada already had in them the gift of seeing the other side of the point. We attract who we are.
That is why Canadians are not tolerant; Canadians are accepting.
The word "tolerant' is pejorative. It means people put up with those they deem to be different from them. This is an insult. This is not what being Canadian is.
Canadians have a great sense of accepting others. We walk down the street and feel it is normal to hear a world full of accents and languages.
Being accepting means it's okay for someone else not to belong to your group.
Being accepting means you know groups to which you do not belong accept you.
Being accepting means you see the other side of the point.
We have forged a country from sea to sea to sea through our ability just to accept. It works for us like few countries in history have ever been privileged to know.
I remember when I began to teach in Toronto's inner city in the 1970s. A dental hygienist from the Caribbean worked in my school. I loved chatting with her because she was so honest and caring. One day she invited me to her home along with her multitude of friends. Everyone but me was from the Caribbean. I was the outsider.
Yet I felt totally at home. They understood the difference between "tolerate" and "accept." They saw the other side of the point.
And so did the "universal man" at one of the ceremonies over which I presided as a citizenship judge. I nicknamed him that because his skin was a mixture of worldwide hues. His physiognomy also displayed a universality. Eighty new citizens from 37 places around the world sang "O Canada" at the end of the ceremony. As the words emanated from his mouth, the tears poured from his eyes. He was looking upward, perhaps toward God or a departed loved one.
Whatever was going on, the "universal man" was pouring his heart out singing a song about the country of his choice. Watching him, I struggled to maintain my composure through the half English and half French words that tripped so easily from my lips. I felt grateful for all the blessings of Canada; he looked overwhelmed.
Just to write about such remembrances makes me feel Canadian. But I have not given a specific definition of what it is to be Canadian that would fit neatly into the Oxford dictionary of the soul. I haven't because I can't.
The best I can do is offer my "feeling theory." Canadians, whether born here or choosing to come here, are a series of disparate stories held together by a deep-down commonality of wanting to be decent. How Canadian; how delightful.
Rochelle Burns is a social historian, former teacher and former citizenship court judge.
Happy Canada Day!!!!
