Two weeks ago, I was asked to “go back to my own country.”
From a completely unexpected sequence of events, this following anecdote lead to me to seriously question some aspects of my life today. Maybe it will also affect you too.
The entire situation was so unexpected, a mundane afternoon at a soccer pitch, enjoying myself with a basketball. (Yes, soccer with a basketball, I know.) Enjoying the beauty and lustre of a land which I considered my own, a land that, like many other Canadians from coast to coast, I am only a mere thread of, in a delicately woven fabric of over 35 million people.
From nowhere, 6 words peal through the air, THOSE 6 words.
My first reaction, I stood, stunned to silence, unable to think of anything to say, and instead chose to take my ball and walk home. Eventually I found the humor of the entire experience, and chuckled to myself a little that night.
Even though the entire moment was merely a demonstration of human bigotry and everything that the world cannot tolerate right now, the words resounded harder in my heart than I had imagined. It made me ask: “Where is my country?” I’m born in Calgary, raised in the freezing cold winters and Stampede summers. I’ve enjoyed everything that Calgary has had to offer since I was a child, from the first Aggie days, to almost all the Canada Day concerts around City Hall. Is that not enough to be “Canadian?” On the other hand, I enjoy Chinese New Years just like all my parents, and can cook a majority of my mother’s Chinese dishes. Does that inundate me, and therefore label me as Chinese? Can I not be both? Must I be judged upon leaning towards one over the other. Can I not change? What qualifies me as a Canadian? What can I say that gives me the privilege to live in “my country?”
My answer, is surprisingly, and perhaps inappropriately, simple. At this point in the world right now, this is an issue that I believe everyone is asking themselves, to identify where they belong in a segregating world that is splitting farther and farther. And even though we put out best efforts to unite the world under one cause, we will forever be divided in some way. However, for many of us, who are of mixed heritage and blood, we are judged one way or another by our own kin for being different. Someone like myself, a Canadian Chinese, is attacked for being too Chinese for Canadians, and too Canadian for a Chinese. It seems like I lose either way. No one stops you from being both, they merely judge for your multiple heritages, and that’s their problem, not yours.
In a current world of Islamophobia, I cannot imagine what it would be like to be fleeing from your country, and settling in a completely different one. How are you viewed by society? I, an Asian-Canadian, am receiving hate for my mere skin tone, so how awful must be it be in other countries? We see their struggle in everyday politics, and we still discriminate them for their colour and race. And while the fear of terrorism must forever be understood as something happening within our current society, it is not enough of an excuse to socially marginalize people who come from across the world. Because ultimately, no matter where you are, we all fall under the same community: humans. Especially in a pluralistic country like Canada, I, and many others, should be allowed to call this our home, and not face retribution for enjoying what a beautiful summer afternoon in Calgary has to offer.
So to that one guy who told me to go back to my country, and probably won’t ever read this in his life, I just want to say what I couldn’t back then. The fact is: “I’m in my country. This is my country. This is my home.”
