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Kaná:ta
Canada Day! In twenty years of writing for The Times, writing about Canada Day has always been difficult for me. The County always puts on a great show of Canada Day Love. For about a decade, LOML and his ukulele-playing friends have been invited to be a musical part of the parade in Wellington. Wellington knows how to celebrate, made it great fun to be a parade spectator and easy to enjoy the chitchat with friends and neighbours celebrating along Main Street. Deep down, I do feel a bit “off” about celebrating Canada Day. When I was a kid in Strathburn Park, Canada Day was excitedly referred to as “Firecracker Day” by most of us little kiddos. My family usually celebrated Firecracker/Dominion Day in our backyard with a massive bonfire, burgers, hot dogs, Freshie, beer for the big kids and homemade cupcakes with way too much icing. When it got dark enough, we’d all sit on the back lawn and watch as my dad and one of the uncles lit the firecracker fuses with a cigarette butt and then we’d cheer as the menfolk ran for cover. I’m surprised we all survived, unscathed, and most of us are still here to talk about it. On one occasion the beers, and maybe a carelessly tossed cigarette butt, may have had a hand in how the whole carton of Roman Candles, Burning School House, Poppers and Fountains set off at the same time. I remember how the audience of siblings and cousins went wild that night. “Oh the humanity”. All of us laughing, screaming, crying and pointing, some running for cover, as an inferno of dazzling lights threatened to blind all of us with the brilliance that is “fireworks”. Mom and the aunties, were horrified. All of them, screaming, “The kids, you idiots!” Dad and one of the uncles laughed until they could hardly stand up. I loved those days. “Us kids” were usually clad in our jammies and spring jackets. All of us are ready to hit the hay after the light show. What’s not to love about that kind of backyard fun? I vowed when I had children of my own they would know those types of occasions. As it turned out, LOML and I never did host our own fireworks event for our own kiddies. We were always happy to celebrate at Delhi—the local park—sitting on a blanket, sippy cups in hand and snacks at the ready. We were surrounded by our neighbours and our friends (still a big shout out to Hugh and Sue along with their little ones). Our kids ran wild through Delhi Park with their friends. Everyone knew everyone else and we all kept an eye on each other’s kiddies. Occasionally, LOML and I bought sparklers for the pre-event. Cuz that’s how we rolled in the old days. And then?
And then as an older, semi-retired adult I was fortunate to be able to return to postsecondary education with a focus on Canadian and Museum Studies. During year three I began to wonder if I’d ever be able to see Canada Day the way I saw it as a kid and then as a young parent. Many of the books on the reading list suggested the Canada I knew and loved was a “nation of nationalities”. Chapter after chapter alluded to how real Canadians were mostly European immigrants looking for a better life in a “new world”. But the readings failed to mention this new world our ancestors settled upon was already home and native land to Indigenous People. In the late 1990s I was reading about how so many people from other nations came together to create this country, but the literature sorta, kinda forgot about the people who were already here. While Canada Day has become a day of national pride and unity, we cannot forget the cost, the pain, and the unthinkable abuse that Confederation brought to the First Nations People, Inuit and Metis. Several years ago Senator Brian Francis, a Mi’kmaq from Epekwitk stated, “In this time of immense grief and pain, it is unthinkable to celebrate as if nothing happened.” Further, he stated, “My family and I will spend the day in nature engaging in prayer and ceremony to soothe our heavy hearts and souls, as well as to honour all of the lives lost and those impacted by the violent and coercive actions of the state. We will recommit ourselves to building a better future for our children and our grandchildren—one we can all be proud of.” As you and I celebrate the nation we should be aware of who we are as a nation, how we came to be and how we should tell the true story of Kanata. And as a “nation of nations” we should not forget the many nations that were here before “we arrived”. There are fifty Indigenous Nations in “Kanata” and fifty Indigenous languages spoken. Our “Canada” is a nation that recognizes two official languages, neither of them represent over one million Indigenous people. We are “a blend of Indigenous traditions and multicultural influences, emphasizing values like tolerance and respect for diversity. Outdoor activities, politeness, and a sense of community are key aspects of Canadian identity”.
Let your heart tell you how to celebrate Kanata, the wonderful village, and watch where you toss your cigarette butts! Waken’nikòn:rare ne Kaná:ta
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