Oh Canada
It's not Canadian laws that make it a different country but the shared experiences of the people.
A strange emotion seized me for a few minutes about a month ago. One of my children was graduating from the University of British Columbia with an engineering degree. Before the ceremony began, we all had to stand and sing the national anthem.
I got a line or two into it when I was gripped by a sudden realization. It had been over 30 years since I had sung the Canadian national anthem in Canada. I have spent most of the last 30 years living in the United States. The national anthem I had sung when I joined the crowd was the national anthem of that country. “Oh say, can you see?”
It’d been a long time, however, since I had sung the Canadian national anthem in Canada. It’s not a great song. Too many “Stands on Guard”. I’m also not a big fan of “in all thy son’s command”. Yet I confess I got a little choked up. I couldn’t sing. Suddenly it hit me, I’m a Canadian. Yes, I have dual citizenship with the United States. However, I knew at that moment I was a Canadian.
So what does that mean exactly? I’ve always liked Pierre Burton’s remark that a Canadian is someone who knows how to make love in a canoe. I’m certainly aware that many Canadians define being a Canadian as not being American. After living in the United States for 35 years, I’m very familiar with that one.
I think I can best define what it means to be a Canadian to me with several memories.
My dad, who worked for Prime Minister Pearson and was involved with promoting the legislation for the flag in 1965, came home after months spent promoting the idea, arguing with conservatives who wanted us to maintain the Union Jack, and convincing other Canadians that we needed our own flag, with a big smile on his face after it happened.
Listening to Stan Rogers sing “The Mary Ellen Carter” or “Watching The Apples Grow.”
Playing hockey on Lake Banook in Dartmouth or Long Pond in Windsor. (the birthplace of hockey), or on the street in St. John, New Brunswick, to the occasional yell of ‘Car.’
I remember Watching Ann Murray, at the height of her popularity, return for a gig in Halifax, walk into a room full of journalists, and stop and talk to every single person she knew from her early days in Halifax, particularly cameramen and sound guys.
Getting Canadian citizenship for three of my four children. The fourth was born in Canada.
Seeing Terry Fox run on the highway outside of Halifax in the early part of his journey.
Reading Farley Mowat’s “Never Cry Wolf” to my children when they were young.
The ‘72 games between Canada and Russia.
Telling a Turkish street merchant outside Topkapi Palace in Istanbul, who was trying to sell me a rug that I was not American but Canadian. He then replied, “What’s the difference?” To which I replied, “Oh, so you mean is no difference between Turks and Greeks?” You can imagine his reaction.
Producing a play in Halifax in the mid-80s for local high schools about a boy who wanted to be prom Queen, encouraging the students to ask questions to members of the local gay community who were in attendance because it was Canada and nobody kicked up a fuss.
Reading Robertson Davies’ “The Deptford Trilogy” or Margaret Lawrence’s “The Stone Angel.”
Learning French when I was young and many years later getting the chance to talk for a couple of hours to Rene Levesque by myself.
Sitting in a room in the Kennedy School at Harvard University with other Canadians in 1995, while just down the hall, there was a another group of Canadians, Parti Québecois supporters, during the last referendum when cheers or groans would go up when the polls moved by 1/10 of a point. It’s in moments like that when you could lose something special, that we learn what is genuinely worth. I’m glad I got to keep it.
There are many other moments. I really don’t want to go into the song and dance about free healthcare, no guns, no laws about abortion, the largest educated citizenry in the world, etc. etc. None of those things really make us Canadian. It is our shared experiences that make us who we are.
Happy Canada Day.
Happy Canada Day! Great piece on being Canadian. I lived away for many years and I sometimes think all Canadians should be made to live away for awhile. First to have new experiences outside their 'box' and to learn about other cultures and ways of doing things. Second while it is great to live away, it really makes you appreciate our home and native land. I think I was and am 'more' Canadian since I lived away ( if that is possible). Differences and shared experiences are what we are all about and make our lives so much richer.
Joanne