From the Past

I wrote this article for the English Wakayama Newsletter the year I was living in Japan, 1995. If you find, like I do, parts vaguely racist or at least politically incorrect, or feel incredulous that I seem to be suggesting they should not have taken prayer out of the school curriculum, all I can say is that I'm chalking it up to being young and not yet very well informed. But I like the general sentiment behind it and think it's still a topic worth considering. Also, as I prepare to visit Scotland this month, I think it is interesting how I was thinking of Scotland so many years ago...

Oxymoron: The Typical Canadian

About a month ago, in one of my English classes, the topic of my cultural background was brought into question. After a lengthy explanation, including several questionable drawings of my family tree by the JTE, one student piped up, "So your mother's Japanese and your father's Scottish?" (This was actually asked in Japanese, of course.)

"Yes," I replied.

"Well then you're not Canadian," he said accusingly, as if he had just realized that there was an imposter standing at the front of the class posing as a Canadian.

"Of course I am, I was born in Canada," I retorted, but the student looked skeptically back at me and remained unconvinced.

I felt rather defensive about this and mulled it over considerably afterward. I didn't have time in that class to explain to the students the history of Canada and how everybody in Canada, except perhaps the Native Indians, originated from somewhere else. However, I saw in the eyes of some of them that they were struggling to grasp the idea of who a Canadian is, to create an image of the typical Canadian in their minds. In an attempt to form this image, Japanese people occasionally ask questions like, "What is a typical Canadian dish?" or "Does everybody in Canada speak English and French?" I've had no simple answer to these questions, and so I've realized I also need to define "Canadian."

I have a vague recollection of learning about Canadian multiculturalism versus the United States' melting pot in junior high school. I don't remember any exact lessons but I know I came out with this general impression: Those evil, oppressive Americans force all their immigrants to give up their heritage and forget their traditions to become U.S. citizens, while we benign, forever accommodating Canadians allow each of our citizens to retain his own cultural identity hence forming a beautifu cultural mosaic... Yeah Canada! So yes, of course the Seikh RCMP can carry his kirpan and wear his turban as part of his uniform; and swearing on the bible is no longer necessary in a Canadian court; and naturally we shouldn't force all Canadian school children to say the Lord's prayer every morning in school - in fact, let's take those prayers out of the curriculum all together. Should we still sing the national anthem?

Of course I wouldn't be so morally arrogant as to claim to be able to determine whether these decisions on the part of the Canadian government were right or wrong. What I am asking is, with what kind of cultural identity is a Canadian left? It seems to me that the typical Canadian is someone who has an idea of the culture of her ancestors but who often has never been to the country where that culture originated and has no concrete culture of her own, being Canadian, to embrace.

Recall for a moment, Darren N's article in the October issue of WIN, "Welshmen - The Chosen Race." However arrogant and rampant with inaccurate generalizations this article may have been, one must recognize and admire one thing: The intense pride Mr. N has in Wales and being Welsh. He comes from a country with a distinct culture and long history. These are tangible facts to which he can refer to identify and define Wales.

Recently my father came to visit me here in Japan. The day he was leaving to go home we took the train together to Kansai Airport. On the way, we got on this topic of cultural identity and he began to talk about his home country, Scotland. He said to me, "Your Poppa used to say that in Scotland you can put your 'hond' down in any river and take a drink." I sat there with my father, whom I had never seen cry once in my life, and watched a tear come to his eye as he told me of his latest visit to Scotland. I tried to imagine him as he said he was, knelt down on the grassy banks of the misty Valley of Glencoe with his hand in the river, thinking of his father, and of Scotland, and of being Scottish. I looked out the window of the train over blue tiled rooves nestled among expanding mountains, and wondered if I would ever have emotions like that about anywhere in the world.

These days I'm making an effort to experience Japanese culture. I am attempting to learn the tea ceremony ("attempting" being the key word here). I am struggling with the Japanese language, and I am trying to find somewhere where I can learn "nichibu" (Japanese dancing). I realize now I do all of this in the desperate attempt to have something tangible to point to, to say, "This is me. This is who I am."

But the truth is clear. I am not Japanese, I can't even speak the language. I'm not Scottish, I couldn't point Edinburgh out to you on a map. I'm Canadian. I can sing you the entire Canadian national anthem, I can name all 10 provinces and 2 territories. But if asked about "The Typical Canadian," I'm afraid I'll still have no definitive answer.