My Culture

A few years ago, while vacationing with some colleagues from school, I was told to "embrace my cultural stereotype." At first, I was shocked. What does that mean? Cultural stereotype? What culture? Was my colleague referring to something racist?

Of course not! Being the good Canadians that we were, he was referring to me NOT being nice enough. My please and thank you's needed more candour. Canadian? Yes, I see myself as Canadian. Not insert-cultural-background-here-first Canadian, but just Canadian plain and simple. In fact, the best way to describe me is that I am Canadian with Chinese heritage. (Hey I can so have maple syrup in place of plum sauce) The heritage aspect denoting that it is something from a long time ago. Nit pickers would ask me where I was from and I will answer, "Markham." I expect that they want some exotic locale. However, I don't see myself as Chinese-Canadian, or Asian-Canadian or any other sort of special denomination of Canadian. That is, I am Canadian first and foremost. This has been a bone of contention for many a person, including my parents and some my colleagues. My argument is and has always been a scenario that some of my friends have already encountered.

A few "Chinese-Canadians" went to China. When asked what they were, they answered Chinese. Makes sense eh? We speak, and look the part. However, the border guard denied their "Chinese-ness" and quite quickly affirmed their "Canadian-ness." If you are denied your ethnic identity at the very border that your ancestors came from, by the people of your own heritage, it's pretty clear that to me that you aren't the same. It could have been a crusty border guard, but situations like this are always happening to me.

It may be a minor administrative thing to some. Some may argue that being Canadian is based solely on the fact that they are a citizen in Our Great Country. To me, being Canadian is much more than a place of permanent residence and administration. ('Cause we all know Canada has way too much of admin)  I believe that Canadians created the most amazing place to live, not just reside. It think that those that take for granted the residence status hold on to their old ways so much that they wilfully ignore the greatness that Canada has to offer. Let me tell you what makes being Canadian the heart of my culture.

Anyone with even an inkling of Canadian culture can suggest that Hockey, ice, snow, boring politics, bacon and maple syrup are distinctly Canuck in flavour. (But when you put combinations of those together, man you get pure awesomeness. Try Hickory Smoked Maple Bacon, it's delicious. ) I am going to suggest that Canadian culture is much broader than a select (albeit hilarious) few stereotypes. Canada is built on the sweat, blood and tears of the many different groups of immigrants. All of which have worked incredibly hard to build a life here. Each group and brought with them special talents and things to share. Over time, different groups not only learnt from one another, but also shared and EMBRACED, the differences. To all of those folks thank you.  I look to their hard work and thank them for it. Those brave pioneers allow me to live their dream. And more importantly, if Canadians were such a bad bunch, why then would my parents move here?

How can I not become Canadian? How can I even think of being so selfish as to reject it?  Being Canadian is a gift; especially knowing that there are those who fought so hard to come here. They were leaving something great for something even better.

In one respect, I borrow things from everybody. I speak Chinglish (Chinese and English), and even a bit of Franglais (French and English).  Although the Chinese and the French would be sub par for even the most generous native speaker.  Using my combined language skills I am able to bridge gaps in programming that I would not normally be able to.  Try watching Hockey Night in Canada on RDC (French CBC), you'll learn fast enough.

Through a mis-mash of great food, song, dance, music, socialisation and celebration, I find myself at a warm welcoming place to call my own. In terms of food, I prefer delicious food. It can be from anywhere in the world, but it has to be good. In fact, I'll learn to cook it myself (then I make it my own, and add maple syrup to it... or not) Foodies often argue that beyond Poutine and Beer, there isn't much of a Canadian Cuisine.  To that I say you're wrong.  Canadian cuisine borrows from so many different places that it's hard to recognise any more.  Pizza may be Italian, but eating at any of the pizza places in Toronto will clearly show you the difference.  But Canadian food is there for those who look.   I might have mostly rice in my diet but let me tell you that I can also bbq a mean meal too.

In terms of 'high culture' and the arts, I cannot dance for the life of me. In fact, trees swaying in the wind look much more graceful. I can't sing. Er, can't sing well. I can sing loudly. But put me in front of a karaoke machine, and I make even the most veteran karaoke goer blush.

I'm loud. In fact, if I were not the spitting image of my parents, one would be hard pressed to see how we are related. Well, I do tell dad jokes, so there my be some other similarities, who knows? However, our ideas clash dramatically. They hold very stereotypical Chinese values. I on the other hand have much more Western ideas. I don't hold the family unit in the same regard. My parents like the idea of having everyone together all the time. To me this feels quite confining. It feels obligatory - almost. I like personal space, I enjoy the idea of not seeing one another months on end.

They see roles closely tied to gender. I don't think gender has anything to do with anything but stereotypes. Roles should be determined by capability and need. I hold my friends in the highest regard, I spend more time with them than with my brothers. This is a concept that deeply perturbs my parents. I'm almost the black sheep. I disregard traditional views and favour more contemporary ones. This clash of the cultures is one that pushes me to want change from my parents even more. However, my parents won't call me Canadian. They just can't. They can't find a definition for me that they like.

I actually like that there is no singular, monolithic definition of what my culture is. I enjoy the fluidity in the dynamic, ever-changing, ever-evolving image of Canadians. I can just be. My culture is not static. It cannot be defined. Canadians do it all. I love that when people hate on Canadians, they're really hating on themselves. Canadians allow that. We also allow for a fierce patriotism that goes beyond our national borders. This culture runs deep, but only the few that embrace it actually understand it. To outsiders, Canadians are a figment of various images. There is the somewhat pretentious art of sewing the flag on our backpacks when we travel. It lets the world know that we're proud of where we come from. But I use it more as an ice breaker. Sometimes, the only other person in the world that'll get what you're saying is another one with that flag. (or a cup of Timmies.)

I've learned to just accept things that I don't understand. And really celebrate them when I do.

So if a Canadian can be anything, what does that make of me? Well, it makes for interesting dinners. It makes lots of travel sense. It's me.