Real CANADIANness

Growing up as a first generation Canadian (father immigrated from Greece, mother immigrated from Korea) I have always struggled to pinpoint exactly what it means to be Canadian.

Luckily for me, 30 years ago they settled in Toronto – one of the most multi-cultural cities in the world. As a woman passionate about learning and experiencing different cultures and hearing those personal stories that different upbringings are sure to inspire, one thing that has been in the back of my mind is: What is Canada’s identity? Why can’t I figure out what being Canadian is? It used to nag at me, like I wasn’t Canadian enough to “get it.”

Sure, you could argue that because of my multi-ethnic background my parents put much more effort into getting my brother and I to embrace and preserve our Greek and Korean sides (since, believe it or not, there actually is a stigma among the diaspora when their youth can’t speak the language or don’t really know the traditions and customs.) My parents simply assumed we would learn to be Canadian.

It can be argued that because we grew up in such a multi-cultural city full of the scents, sights, and sounds of hundreds of ethnicities, that distinct Canadian-ness was lost in the mix.

Through elementary and high school, what I understood as being a distinct part of our national identity was: Being aware that Native Canadians were here before our British and French forefathers took over; we have an obsessive love for hockey; an affinity for great beer; an adoration of snow with every fiber of our beings; and have pride in our peacekeeping role on the international playing field. I grew up being thankful I wasn’t one of those in-your-face Americans when I traveled, since people simply liked Canadians better because we were so darn nice.

I grew up experiencing patriotism. Just not Canada’s. Examples of national pride were always most obvious during international sporting events, like World Cup soccer, where everyone pulled out their ethnic hats and waved flags from around the world.

Interestingly enough, it’s a recent sporting event that made me experience a level of Canadian pride more unified and tangible than anything I’ve felt in my entire Canadian life.

The 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver seem to have been a turning point for Canada, not only because we won the most gold medals than any country ever has, but news agencies around the world seemed to pick up on another phenomenon that suddenly became a newsworthy event all in its own: Canada’s palpable swell in national pride.

One could sense this unanimous support for Canada and our Olympics even before the games began, with everyone from children to businessmen donning those red knitted mittens with the white maple leaves.

As I watched the opening ceremonies, I was fascinated by the way our history unfolded before our eyes, from the Four Host First Nations to the 100 projectors used to create the ceremony’s “landscape of dreams.” I loved seeing all the diverse regions of Canada getting their time in the spotlight; from the aerialist soaring through the fields of gold over Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now, juxtaposed with the tartan-wearing, punk-tap dancing fiddlers representing the Celtic influences in the east. However, spoken-word poet Shane Koyczan’s Canada-defining, stereotype-defying We Are More may have been the moment that set the tone for Canada and the identity we have finally become outspokenly proud of.

Then that national pride snowballed when our athletes began winning medal after medal. It’s as though that first gold won by Alexandre Bilodeau gave us permission and an undeniable confidence to proudly tell the world “Hey! We’re Canadians! Look at how awesome we are!”

And just like that, that patriotism I experienced during other sporting events for other countries was replaced by an awe-inspiring wave of red and white. We celebrated in the streets across the country, blocking traffic and showing our international guests what a great party we throw.

The nation wept with Joannie Rochette when she found out about her mother’s sudden death; then we cheered with her when she brought home the bronze.

The nation grew defensive and unanimously gave the IOC the finger (figuratively of course) when they made our female hockey champions apologize for simply celebrating their gold.

The nation waited with bated breath in that final Men’s Gold Hockey Game until Sidney Crosby heroically put in the winning goal.

It’s undeniable that the Olympics made us reach a tremendous level of pride we were finally confident enough to share with the world. And the world finally got a better sense of what it means to be Canadian beyond maple syrup and beavers.

Being Canadian is about jumping into an ocean of faces of different colours and a melange of diverse cultures evolving generation after generation to become something greater than what it was before.

It’s about embracing a set of ideals like equality, liberalism, freedom of speech, true democracy, social health and welfare – looking after the sick, the old, the weak – the benchmarks of an enlightened society.

I hope this raw pride will survive past the Olympics, but one thing is for certain, we proved once more to the international audience – just in case there was any doubt – that hockey is Canada’s sport.