What It Means to Be Canadian Right Now

I remember sitting in grade 7 social studies — I want to say it was Mr. Henderson's class, but honestly I'm not certain — and learning about the difference between Canada and the United States. The USA was described as a melting pot, where cultures blend together into something new. Canada, we were told, was a mosaic. Different pieces, distinct colours, holding their own shape, but fitting together into something bigger.

I think about that a lot. Especially lately.

Catching the VIA Rail to Ottawa

I was in Ottawa this week for just a couple of days, but it was enough to make me feel something. Standing on Parliament Hill with all of that construction around me. I kept thinking about where we are as a country right now, where we've been, and what we're building toward.

The Peace Tower is still there, cranes wrapped around it like something protective rather than invasive. It's being restored. There's a comforting metaphor in that, I think.

The Peace Tower — still standing through all the noise

Looking up at what's being rebuilt

Parliament Hill from the south plaza

Close to the action

Here's the thing about Canada though: it's not one thing. It was never meant to be, and I think that's what makes it great.

My daughter Gemma is out on the East Coast in Halifax now, and through her I've gotten a much better sense of what the Maritime lifestyle actually feels like from the inside. The maritime identity is something different. People there have this easy-going (seemingly) relationship with the ocean, with hard weather, with community, that people in Ontario like me barely understand. It shapes how they see themselves, and what they expect from life and from each other.

And then you think about Ontario, and even here there are these wild contrasts. I‘ve live in both Port HOpe and Cobourg - they are literally eleven minutes apart. They are different towns with a real (mostly friendly) rivalry going on. They both think they're the better town. (Both are right.) The point is, the difference between Cobourg and Port Hope is nothing compared to the difference between Port Hope and Toronto, or between Toronto and Thunder Bay.

Start heading west and the contrasts just keep multiplying. Winnipeg has its own identity: tough, prairie-proud, a city that does not get enough credit. Saskatchewan has that big open sky feeling where you understand for the first time what the word wide really means. Edmonton and Calgary each think they're the real Alberta. Kelowna has this whole outdoor, slightly hippie, wine-country thing going on that surprises you if you haven't been there. And then Vancouver which almost has the feel of a different country entirely, pressed up against the mountains and the Pacific, doing its own thing.

All Canadian. All different. All holding their piece of the puzzle.

The scale of the renovation work is hard to capture

Parliament Hill — cranes and all

I'm glad we have Mark Carney right now. I've been thinking about why he feels different, and I think the word that keeps coming to me is gravity. Not gravitas exactly (though there's that too) but gravity in the physical sense. He seems to pull things toward him rather than push them apart, which is rare. That's actually what this moment needs, I think, not just in Canada but as an example of something the world doesn't have enough of right now.

Leadership that builds, and that holds the pieces together instead of picking at the seams.

The Centennial Flame, still burning

I stood near the Centennial Flame for a while before heading back. The flame burns all year, even in January, when it’s cold af. There's something stubborn about that - something really Canadian.

We're making it work, we've been doing so for a long time, and I think we'll keep after it. Not because we all look the same or think the same or come from the same place. I sure as hell know we don’t, but we've chosen to be here, and to STAY here together, anyway.

That's the mosaic an THAT's the whole point of being Canadian.