Latest news with #CanadianIdentity
CBC
04-07-2025
- Politics
- CBC
I spent years feeling like an outsider in Canada — until my children helped me see it as home
This is a First Person column by Magdalena Olszanowski, a writer and communications professor who lives in Montreal, and is part of a Canada Day series exploring what Canada means to people across this country. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ. "What's so wrong with being Canadian?" my nine-year-old child asked me at dinner. "We're Montrealers. We're Canadian." My skin crawled. I always saw myself as a Pole living in Canada. Not a Canadian. I built this moat around me based on my experiences immigrating to Toronto from Warsaw, Poland. My parents and I moved with a single suitcase in the dead of winter in 1990, shortly after the fall of the Berlin Wall. But my two children were born in Montreal and knew only this land as home — a stark contrast to the moat I had imagined for myself. My child sensed my conflicted feelings. Around the time of U.S. President Donald Trump's re-election, my nine-year-old began questioning the antagonistic sentiments about Canadian identity they had grown up hearing in their own home. But this was the first time they'd ever questioned my feelings about Canadian identity so pointedly. I fumbled through an explanation about how we as Polish-Greek Jews celebrate our bountiful heritage and its customs, but the justifications I had built up over decades were suddenly inadequate against a child's clear-eyed logic. If being Canadian was so wrong, what was I doing here? Microaggressions in Canada When I moved to Canada, I didn't know English. I didn't know about Canadian culture. I didn't know how cold it could get. Most of all, I didn't know how this country could ever be my home. My welcome as a tween didn't help. "You know what Polish people are called?" a classmate said. "No," I said, narrowly opening my mouth to accentuate the "o" so as not to betray my hard syllable-timed Polish accent. "Kielbasa," he said, rolling the 'i" and anglicizing the word. "Fat, juicy, stinky kielbasa." Each harsh syllable reinforced the idea that I didn't belong here, widening the gap between who I was and who I thought I needed to become. Despite growing up in a city teeming with immigrants and first-generation kids, it felt like being Canadian meant following a white middle-class lifestyle. Or carrying a name that never made anyone pause or stumble over syllables. At 11, I insisted that my parents officially anglicize my name, only to return to my birth name a decade later. I wanted so badly to fit in, yet I derided where I would be fitting into. My parents, filled with acculturation stress — the psychological strain of adapting to a new culture — weren't equipped to help me navigate this either. But the contempt I held for the world I was trying to enter may have kept me from seeing my place within it. The moat I thought was widening between me and this country was actually filling up with the sediments of daily belonging. Belonging to Canada In 2011, when I moved to Montreal and later became a mom, the disconnect between identity and belonging started to narrow further. Quebec gave me an identity that eventually became perennial: an allophone mother. I had to put in effort for Montreal's language and cultural differences to experience its bountiful offerings. This effort at understanding was the welcome I was waiting for when I arrived in Canada, now realizing it could only flourish with my tending. In our yard, my daughter asks to plant flowers, so we do — native flowers such as wild bergamot, fireweed and yarrow. I choose the latter two, because they grow both in Warsaw's forests and along Quebec's roadsides. We bike around with books to share with Les Croque-livres (little free libraries). "Mama, I love our neighbourhood," my nine-year-old says, holding up an Elise Gravel comic they found tucked in a turquoise free library in a ruelle verte (green alley) near our home. When I overhear them explain Orange Shirt Day to their sister over nalesniki (Polish crepes) with maple syrup, while they both don matching Every Child Matters shirts, or when they make up rhymes in Frenglish about the MPs on posters during election time, I realize this is what it means to be Canadian. I'm the immigrant parent observing my children's fluency in languages I'm still struggling with, but they've shown me the many reasons that being Canadian is not succumbing to nationalism or bumper sticker cliches or letting the past wholly define me. It's using my own experience of cultural erasure and alienation — being seen as a stereotype rather than a whole person — to teach my children about xenophobia and to fight against it. It's ensuring that Indigenous presence is never erased from our understanding of what it means to be Canadian. It wasn't until that incisive question from my child that I realized that my efforts to fit in over the years were actually gestures toward building a more welcoming Canada for all. By participating in the historic Quebec student strikes, co-ordinating a "Yes In My Backyard Festival" for years, teaching Canadian cinema that foregrounds Indigenous stories and taking my children when I vote, I was helping shape a more inclusive Canada. I've realized that belonging in and to this country can take many forms. Like plants, it relies on cross-pollination to flourish. I'm grateful my children's fresh eyes taught me to embrace what was already blooming around me.
CTV News
01-07-2025
- Politics
- CTV News
There's no one way to be a Canadian: Culture Minister Steven Guilbeault
Steven Guilbeault, minister of Canadian identity and culture, announces the Canada Strong Pass at the Canadian Museum of Nature in Ottawa on Monday, June 16, 2025. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Sean Kilpatrick OTTAWA — Steven Guilbeault, federal minister of identity and culture, came to his new job just as the whole country was looking at itself in the mirror. Guilbeault took on the new ministry — which replaces the old heritage ministry and takes up responsibility for Parks Canada — as U.S. President Donald Trump was ramping up a ruinous trade war and talking about annexing his country's neighbour to the north. In an interview with The Canadian Press, Guilbeault said most Canadians probably hadn't reflected much on their own national identity before Washington changed its tone. Their reaction — ten years after Guilbeault's old boss, Justin Trudeau, described Canada as a 'post-national state' — has been a surge in national pride that culminates today in Canada Day celebrations across the country. 'What we're seeing is a … renewed sense of pride in being Canadian,' Guilbeault told the The Canadian Press. 'This year, it will take on a whole new role.' Guilbeault said he sees his role as a departure from the former heritage portfolio, which 'in its very definition implies that you're kind of looking backwards.' He said his task is to work out what Canadian arts, identity and culture might look like in the coming years — not to attempt to pin down anything like a singular Canadian 'identity.' 'I won't stand here and pretend that I can tell you what Canadian identity is or should be,' he said. 'My role in the coming months will be to work with people across the country … to help perhaps define and better promote our identity, and maybe rejuvenate a sense of unity. 'It would be pretty rich for one member of cabinet sitting in Ottawa to tell all of Canada, 'This is what Canadian identity should look like.' That's not how I roll.' He said he sees his job as one of identifying cultural markers 'that people can rally around' — a complex task in a country as big and diverse as this one. 'There's only one language in the United States, there's only one culture,' he noted. In the process, he said, he hopes to encourage Canadians to see themselves in each other. 'I've always been fascinated, for example, by how similar Quebecers and Albertans are,' he said in French. 'They are two peoples who are very proud, very autonomist, very independent, in the philosophical sense of the term.' He said those ties of culture and history are important to keep in mind as Canadians stare down American threats to Canada's identity, sovereignty and economy. 'There are a lot of things that bring us together, and this is true for the whole country. And that's what I'm going to work on, over the next few weeks and months,' Guilbeault said. This report by The Canadian Press was first published July 1, 2025. Dylan Robertson, The Canadian Press
Yahoo
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Hassan Phills applauds Canada's flaws: ‘I love that we're a curious country, that can laugh at itself…even if we don't always get it right'
Yahoo News Canada presents 'My Canada," a series spotlighting Canadians — born-and-raised to brand new — sharing their views on the Canadian dream, national identity, and the triumphs and tribulations that come with life inside and outside these borders. This as-told-to story is based on a conversation with Hassan Phills about what his Canadian heritage means to him, especially as a stand-up comedian. Over the past decade in comedy, I've used the stage to reflect who I am—from my roots in Scarborough, Ontario to my identity as a Somali-Jamaican Canadian. Comedy, much like basketball before it, has taken me across the country and increasingly across the world. And wherever I go, one thing becomes clear: my Canadian identity travels with me. Sometimes that Canadian identity, especially in the U.S. is looked at as less than, or that you're a tier below, but truthfully it's an example that we were able to carve out a big enough voice in our own country that we could travel abroad to continue to grow upon our success. It shows the hunger that many Canadian performers have, those who uproot themselves to leave their country, one ripe with compassion, care and a quality of living to continue to take a chance in foreign lands. In Canada, there is a unique kind of generosity that's hard to describe unless you've experienced it. People have opened their homes, their wallets, and their hearts to support my journey. Whether it's friends volunteering at shows to check tickets or strangers promoting my work online, that community-first mentality has shaped my experience as an artist. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Hassan Phills (@hassanphills) I've seen it in every corner of the country—in North Vancouver, where a family once took me in during my college basketball days, to the packed venues in Ottawa, where East Africans, Muslims, and other minority communities regularly come out in full force to support. And support isn't just to watch the show, they come with gifts, food and flowers to visually showcase the love and care they have. There's a reason I take that pride with me when I perform abroad—in London, New York, Houston, Minneapolis, Los Angeles. I let audiences know where I'm from. I represent Toronto. I represent Scarborough. My neighbourhood gave me my edge. It taught me timing, wit, and how to read a room fast. I carry that everywhere I go. In my act, I often poke fun at how Canadians, when inside the country and of immigrant backgrounds, will say they're from 'X' country—but the second they leave Canada and are on vacation or visiting family, then with their chest, they will proudly say they're Canadian. Our country's reputation travels and there's real affection for this place, for our cities, for our cultural output. And we've earned it—from comedy legends like Russell Peters and Norm Macdonald, to music giants like Drake and Justin Bieber. Simply put, no shortage of Canadian talent that has had a global impact in all lanes of entertainment. Being part of that lineage is a goal, but also a responsibility. As a Black Muslim comedian beginning to break internationally, being Canadian means navigating the world with a mix of humility, resilience, and a deep understanding of nuance. Canada gave me the space to develop my voice—often in rooms filled with first-time comedy goers, people who came just to support someone from their community. That's where I learned to connect. That's where I found my perspective. The growing tensions between Canada and the U.S. over the past several years—on trade, race, and politics—have made me reflect more on identity and leadership. It's made me more conscious of how much Canadians pride ourselves on being 'different' from Americans, but also more aware that we're not above the same struggles. The comparison pushed me to look inward at our systems, not just outward. As a comedian, it sharpened my material. As a Canadian, it challenged my assumptions. Being Black in Canada has often meant carving out space, but I've also seen people try to make room. That effort matters. I love that we're a curious country, that can laugh at itself, and that believes in community, even if we don't always get it right. That's the version of Canada I know. That's the version I take with me—onstage and off.
Yahoo
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Hassan Phills applauds Canada's flaws: ‘I love that we're a curious country, that can laugh at itself…even if we don't always get it right'
Yahoo News Canada presents 'My Canada," a series spotlighting Canadians — born-and-raised to brand new — sharing their views on the Canadian dream, national identity, and the triumphs and tribulations that come with life inside and outside these borders. This as-told-to story is based on a conversation with Hassan Phills about what his Canadian heritage means to him, especially as a stand-up comedian. Over the past decade in comedy, I've used the stage to reflect who I am—from my roots in Scarborough, Ontario to my identity as a Somali-Jamaican Canadian. Comedy, much like basketball before it, has taken me across the country and increasingly across the world. And wherever I go, one thing becomes clear: my Canadian identity travels with me. Sometimes that Canadian identity, especially in the U.S. is looked at as less than, or that you're a tier below, but truthfully it's an example that we were able to carve out a big enough voice in our own country that we could travel abroad to continue to grow upon our success. It shows the hunger that many Canadian performers have, those who uproot themselves to leave their country, one ripe with compassion, care and a quality of living to continue to take a chance in foreign lands. In Canada, there is a unique kind of generosity that's hard to describe unless you've experienced it. People have opened their homes, their wallets, and their hearts to support my journey. Whether it's friends volunteering at shows to check tickets or strangers promoting my work online, that community-first mentality has shaped my experience as an artist. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Hassan Phills (@hassanphills) I've seen it in every corner of the country—in North Vancouver, where a family once took me in during my college basketball days, to the packed venues in Ottawa, where East Africans, Muslims, and other minority communities regularly come out in full force to support. And support isn't just to watch the show, they come with gifts, food and flowers to visually showcase the love and care they have. There's a reason I take that pride with me when I perform abroad—in London, New York, Houston, Minneapolis, Los Angeles. I let audiences know where I'm from. I represent Toronto. I represent Scarborough. My neighbourhood gave me my edge. It taught me timing, wit, and how to read a room fast. I carry that everywhere I go. In my act, I often poke fun at how Canadians, when inside the country and of immigrant backgrounds, will say they're from 'X' country—but the second they leave Canada and are on vacation or visiting family, then with their chest, they will proudly say they're Canadian. Our country's reputation travels and there's real affection for this place, for our cities, for our cultural output. And we've earned it—from comedy legends like Russell Peters and Norm Macdonald, to music giants like Drake and Justin Bieber. Simply put, no shortage of Canadian talent that has had a global impact in all lanes of entertainment. Being part of that lineage is a goal, but also a responsibility. As a Black Muslim comedian beginning to break internationally, being Canadian means navigating the world with a mix of humility, resilience, and a deep understanding of nuance. Canada gave me the space to develop my voice—often in rooms filled with first-time comedy goers, people who came just to support someone from their community. That's where I learned to connect. That's where I found my perspective. The growing tensions between Canada and the U.S. over the past several years—on trade, race, and politics—have made me reflect more on identity and leadership. It's made me more conscious of how much Canadians pride ourselves on being 'different' from Americans, but also more aware that we're not above the same struggles. The comparison pushed me to look inward at our systems, not just outward. As a comedian, it sharpened my material. As a Canadian, it challenged my assumptions. Being Black in Canada has often meant carving out space, but I've also seen people try to make room. That effort matters. I love that we're a curious country, that can laugh at itself, and that believes in community, even if we don't always get it right. That's the version of Canada I know. That's the version I take with me—onstage and off.
Yahoo
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Hassan Phills applauds Canada's flaws: ‘I love that we're a curious country, that can laugh at itself…even if we don't always get it right'
Yahoo News Canada presents 'My Canada," a series spotlighting Canadians — born-and-raised to brand new — sharing their views on the Canadian dream, national identity, and the triumphs and tribulations that come with life inside and outside these borders. This as-told-to story is based on a conversation with Hassan Phills about what his Canadian heritage means to him, especially as a stand-up comedian. Over the past decade in comedy, I've used the stage to reflect who I am—from my roots in Scarborough, Ontario to my identity as a Somali-Jamaican Canadian. Comedy, much like basketball before it, has taken me across the country and increasingly across the world. And wherever I go, one thing becomes clear: my Canadian identity travels with me. Sometimes that Canadian identity, especially in the U.S. is looked at as less than, or that you're a tier below, but truthfully it's an example that we were able to carve out a big enough voice in our own country that we could travel abroad to continue to grow upon our success. It shows the hunger that many Canadian performers have, those who uproot themselves to leave their country, one ripe with compassion, care and a quality of living to continue to take a chance in foreign lands. In Canada, there is a unique kind of generosity that's hard to describe unless you've experienced it. People have opened their homes, their wallets, and their hearts to support my journey. Whether it's friends volunteering at shows to check tickets or strangers promoting my work online, that community-first mentality has shaped my experience as an artist. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Hassan Phills (@hassanphills) I've seen it in every corner of the country—in North Vancouver, where a family once took me in during my college basketball days, to the packed venues in Ottawa, where East Africans, Muslims, and other minority communities regularly come out in full force to support. And support isn't just to watch the show, they come with gifts, food and flowers to visually showcase the love and care they have. There's a reason I take that pride with me when I perform abroad—in London, New York, Houston, Minneapolis, Los Angeles. I let audiences know where I'm from. I represent Toronto. I represent Scarborough. My neighbourhood gave me my edge. It taught me timing, wit, and how to read a room fast. I carry that everywhere I go. In my act, I often poke fun at how Canadians, when inside the country and of immigrant backgrounds, will say they're from 'X' country—but the second they leave Canada and are on vacation or visiting family, then with their chest, they will proudly say they're Canadian. Our country's reputation travels and there's real affection for this place, for our cities, for our cultural output. And we've earned it—from comedy legends like Russell Peters and Norm Macdonald, to music giants like Drake and Justin Bieber. Simply put, no shortage of Canadian talent that has had a global impact in all lanes of entertainment. Being part of that lineage is a goal, but also a responsibility. As a Black Muslim comedian beginning to break internationally, being Canadian means navigating the world with a mix of humility, resilience, and a deep understanding of nuance. Canada gave me the space to develop my voice—often in rooms filled with first-time comedy goers, people who came just to support someone from their community. That's where I learned to connect. That's where I found my perspective. The growing tensions between Canada and the U.S. over the past several years—on trade, race, and politics—have made me reflect more on identity and leadership. It's made me more conscious of how much Canadians pride ourselves on being 'different' from Americans, but also more aware that we're not above the same struggles. The comparison pushed me to look inward at our systems, not just outward. As a comedian, it sharpened my material. As a Canadian, it challenged my assumptions. Being Black in Canada has often meant carving out space, but I've also seen people try to make room. That effort matters. I love that we're a curious country, that can laugh at itself, and that believes in community, even if we don't always get it right. That's the version of Canada I know. That's the version I take with me—onstage and off.
