The United States: A Complicated Relationship

Taking a break from my series "The Racket of Private Education," I wanted to write something more personal. Canada just celebrated its 150th birthday and American Independence Day is tomorrow, so it seems timely for me to share some of my thoughts, experiences, and struggles with being a Canadian-American in the US.

My parents were conscientious objectors, meaning that they left the US in 1970 because they no longer could live in a country that acted in such opposition to their ideals. Technically they were categorized as draft dodgers and as such, they didn't return to the US until 1977 when President Carter pardoned all draft dodgers. To this day, Carter is a hero in my family.

Where my parents landed was a remote part of Atlantic Canada, known for its fish, its rum, and its music. They had all 3 of their children there, myself included, and we spent our youth living in a province whose people do not identify as Canadian. This is important because despite being a Canadian citizen, I never considered myself one until I had to move to the US when I was 10. No one knew where I was from and instead they would categorize me as Canadian. I took offense to this at first because it was a gross inaccuracy to me, but eventually this label became a badge of honor that I still carry today.

Moving to the Midwest was an extreme culture shock for me. Having spent the first decade of my life in an all-white Irish Catholic fishing town, Minneapolis was a melting pot of cultures, smells, and colors that I'd never experienced before. As young as I was, I didn't really understand what was going on. I knew that my parents were from America and that my extended family lived there, but much like my new-found Canadian label, I'd never considered myself American. Kids being kids, none of my peers did either and it was only in my 20s that I stopped rebelling against and begin to accept being American.

From 10 until about 22, I hated the United States, and I mean hated. I resented everything about this place, from its people and its politics to its regionalism and its history. This hostility was born in part out of my upbringing by draft dodgers who spoke only negative about America whenever it was raised in conversation, but it was more than that. I'd experienced a different way of life in Canada, one that ensured care and was overall more inclusive. Once I moved, I went without healthcare for the better part of 7 years and found Americans to be far more dog-eat-dog than my Canadian counterparts. Once September 11 happened, my hostility only grew as the country now bore even greater similarity to that which my parents fled; a war-mongering police state that was more concerned with power and punishment than caring for its own people.

At 23, I went to college to study anthropology and learned the fundamentals of what I'd hated about the US. The problem was that I also learned the fundamentals of what was wrong with Canada along the way and how both countries' shared history is mired with slavery, subjugation, and legislative deceit that continues today. My Canadian fantasy was tarnished and both nations suddenly seemed equal, all while I was learning about the fallacy that are nation-states and the naturalization of their borders.

It was at this point that I began to let myself appreciate America for what it had given me: a world-class education; the ability to invest in myself; and an honest look into socio-economic and political tensions that are ignored in other more "inclusive" countries. Love it or hate it, America showcases aspects of humanity that many want to ignore and instead of accounting for them, they blame it on the country or on nation-states themselves.

I'm in my 30's now, and am hopefully a little wiser. I identify as Canadian-American and am proud of my heritage in both countries, considering myself ideologically Canadian and culturally American. My life is good and I have the US to thank for it. I still disagree with much of what I see and, lately, I want to grab it by the shoulders, shake it, and tell it to grow the fuck up. But I love it for the opportunities it granted me. If I'd continued my life in Atlantic Canada, I wouldn't have had access to the quality education that I did here. My mobility would have been greatly limited and as a consequence, my horizons narrowed.

Despite my appreciation for this country, my bleeding-heart liberal ideals mean that I associate with many in the US who feel about their country the way I felt when I was younger. There is such anger in them, an anger they carry around every day, that I wonder how they can even crack a smile. But instead of harnessing this anger in an informed and educated fashion, they lash out and make superficial criticisms of their country, and it always seems to be the most privileged who are so eager to burn it to the ground instead of trying to fix it. These same people, who are typically very warm, kind, and open-minded, are also the most likely to both envy and mock my Canadian heritage. Wishing they could just flee, they place an equally problematic country on a pedestal and make the same sophomoric jokes I heard when I was in junior high:

• America's Hat or Attic
• "something something something, Eh" followed by an awaiting look
• Blame Canada
• You have a Canadian accent
• You don't say "aboot"
• "something something something ABOOT" followed by an awaiting look
• Stereotypes about maple syrup or beavers
• Canadians are mean because on a single hunting trip some Canadian named Steve or Brian wasn't nice and so now the second-largest country on the planet is comprised of moose and assholes
• Did you live in an igloo?
• Do you know an inuit? (they say the racial slur for inuit, which I won't use here)

The biggest and most offensive is Newfie. My place of birth comes with a derogatory term that its people consider very offensive, but Americans seem to feel that because it sounds cute, they should have the liberty to use it at their leisure. I can't help but wonder if other terms that only recently became socially taboo were once thought to be cute.

And this gets to my only criticism of Americans, the one that leaves me to hold Canadians in higher regard and to still harbor resentment for a country that I love; Americans are arrogant and mean (I am not innocent in this, btw). Having lived in 3 states, traveled extensively throughout its various regions, and traveled a decent chunk of the world, my experience is that Americans believe they have the right to do and say whatever they please regardless of how it might affect others. They criticize one another for doing this, yet they are just as guilty of those they criticize. The lack of reflection and caring about the consequences manifests itself in its language, its policies, and its regionalism. Americans seem to hate everyone, including themselves, and it can make them downright vicious.

Canadians are a kinder people and while their historical hands have just as much blood on them, they're willing to reflect on and change because of it. I wish I could see that in Americans, who are the most innovative, bold, and pioneering of anyone on the globe. I love Canada and I love America. I love Canadians and I love Americans. I just wish they felt the same way.

What ways do you try to improve yourself and your community?