Self story #1 Am I Canadian?

Dry ground, sub-tropical heat, and humid moisture; the sky was polluted with light and clouds. I felt the effects of naturally warm water, with a clear transparent reflection looking back. I remember being surrounded with towering trees and nature, but very little wildlife. Although nice, this was not home. The clay based back roads and snake shaped rivers, in the flood plains decorated with Cyprus knees and pine trees. This physical image never produced nostalgia. Memories of, briskly, cold winds, snow like sand dunes, abundant wildlife and nature, endless clear and fresh skies, and finally, Tim Horton’s coffee. These memories brought me nostalgia.

The plane ride was long and tiring, but the bitter lethargy was worth the wait. I walked out of the airport, I felt the rough, stern, and silent, creeping, cold hit my face. However, I felt at ease and home. The evergreen trees that stood tall and proud, with a mighty and extraordinaire resilience; reminded me of my own proud citizenship. The snow covered ground marked an important aspect of Canada, that the temperature was right for hockey. A distasteful sport I must admit, but this very aspect of Canadian culture was, apparently, significant. The politeness, that Canadians are famous for was, surprisingly noticeably, instant. Although, no matter how much this reminded me of home, I still never felt, truly, Canadian. The objects, artifacts, and visual imagery never provided me with content, because most of these ideas are subjective, verily. Staring out into the snowy city, one very cold and dark night, I pondered about Canada as a whole.

The cold and chilly night, with pollution on the ground; the city lights shine above the dim shade. This reminds me of a bright mask that covers reality. I think back, in my memories of my life; towards what I actually see, when I take off my patriotic glasses, and I see alcoholics in the bar, rampant racism being uttered indirectly and directly, old high-school friends being shot and stabbed over drugs, incompetent white men having power over competent women, homophobic slander being accepted and used, people dying because of their fear for medicine and science, religious sociopaths, and finally, hypocrisy. The moment that I stood looking out my window towards the snowy city, I realized that I was starting to, finally, become Canadian. During this moment I realized, that accepting yourself for what you, truly, are applies to your national image, also. During this moment I understood, what Canada really was as a whole, not just the positive aspects, and this discovery of philosophy inspired me to try to change those defective aspects, from within Canada’s social culture as a whole. The moment I, truly, felt Canadian, was the moment that I started to view Canada as a whole, instead of just cherry picking certain positive aspects. I still watch the snow mask the ground, before it melts revealing its true self to me. I still hope that one day, Canada can look as beautiful as it does in the spring permanently.