Second-Generation Connections Marginalizing Identity

Abstract

What does it mean to be Canadian? Or rather, what does it mean to have a Canadian identity? I cannot speak for every second-generation Canadian, nor do I want to. I can only speak of my experience as a second-generation Canadian of Barbadian descent and how it has shaped my identity.Here's my checklist of a typical Canadian: he or she was born in Canada, speaks English and/or French, celebrates Christmas, is Christian, plays hockey, owns a snow shovel, drinks Canadian beer, has a barbeque on Canada Day, watches hockey every Saturday night, is friendly and polite, has liberal views, dislikes American hegemony but watches American TV shows, loves thy neighbour, and generally cares about the wellbeing of others.It's an incomplete list, but it's safe to say that I fit the criteria of what I believe to be a Canadian. However, in my experience, most people would argue that I'm not.I may think that I'm Canadian, and inherently and consciously do the things that a Canadian is supposed to do, but if you took one look at me none of that would matter. Why is that? I forgot to add the most important element of Canadian identity: you must be white.That may be a trivial assessment, but it's the truth. When you think of Canada or a Canadian, you don't think of a Muslim woman in a hijab, or a Sikh man in a turban, let alone a black man. My ancestors could have fought in the War of 1812 as Loyalist supporters, or been one of the first settlers of Canada in Nova Scotia or southwestern Ontario, but that still would not make me a Canadian. Once you don't look the part, whatever you do or however you act no longer matters. You become the other in your own country. You enter a state of identity limbo. You ask yourself, if society doesn't see me for who I think I am, then who am I?As a black and second-generation Canadian, I personally face two different struggles for identity. I am a black Canadian man, not a black man who happens to be Canadian. But I am also a child born in Canada of Barbadian emigrants. And both of these are significant.What makes me Canadian?I am Canadian. Regardless of how the wider society sees me, I firmly believe that my roots and existence lie in this country.Creating a checklist of Canadian identity is pointless. Tying myself to what I perceive to be Canadian cores and values does not hinder my ability to understand the truth of my existence. Physically, I am not the prototypical Anglo-Saxon descendant of lyth-century western European settlers. I cannot trace my Canadian roots before the 19603. I cannot claim that my grandparents fought for this country in the Korean War, let alone the First or second World Wars. Does that make me less Canadian?This country has manipulated its identity and fallen prey to selective and collective amnesia about its colourful past-the open African and aboriginal slavery practiced for over 200 years, the exclusionary and racist immigration policies, the Chinese head tax, the 120126 is too many approach to Jewish immigration during the second World War, and the internment of Japanese Canadians during that same period. That is only a small glimpse of how this country has treated-and clearly defined-who is a Canadian, and most importantly, who should be allowed to be Canadian.I clearly understand that Canada has made several legal and institutional changes to open its doors to all races and creeds. We have passed through the Trudeau years and the first and second instalments of the multiculturalism act. Legally, you can be a Canadian Muslim woman or a Canadian Sikh man. However, this acceptance of Canadianness does not transcend to an open social interpretation of Canadian identity.As a hyphenated Canadian-African-Canadian, black-Canadian, but, most importantly, Barbadian-Canadian-I find it difficult to hold myself to one specific culture. My life is a hybrid of a multitude of pasts and histories. I am Canadian, but I am not Barbadian. …