Canada 150

I love it here. I love Canada. I love being Canadian. I love hearing tourists gush about how friendly we are and how safe they feel within our borders. I am gratified to know that our global reputation is as pristine as any First World country’s reputation can be. We have our problems, sure. Just ask the indigenous people whose struggle to reclaim their stolen heritage continues. Even so, we as a nation are trying to repair the damage done by our colonial predecessors in hope of making something stronger from the wreckage. We may be Canadian, but we’re also human. We can’t be perfect, at least not all the time. We just try a little harder to be respectful, polite, environmentally conscious, compassionate, sympathetic, funny, humble and supportive. Patriotism hasn’t come easily in the past, but in recent years, it’s crept closer to the forefront, and you know what? That’s okay. We should be patriotic. We live in a magical, beautiful, expansive, progressive, diverse, inclusive and wondrous place.

Though I’d like to say I am proud to be Canadian, I am more inclined to say I’m relieved to be Canadian. Pride does have a dark side. The temptation to become smug about the country I call home has increased since superpowers like the US and the UK appear to have lost their lustre, but I refuse to go there. I am proud, yes. I am relieved, yes. I am grateful, yes. But I am here not by my doing. I am here because my father who, on deciding to emigrate from England, wrote to three nations: Canada, Australia, and America.

Canada wrote him back.

Canada welcomed him, his wife, and his four kids (my wee sister was smuggled in utero). I don’t think any of us would have had it turn out differently.

Happy birthday, Canada – and thanks.

With love,