Where is home? Home is where family is, where heart is. Home is also is where you make new memories, where you meet your clan.Years ago, when we decided to move to Canada, tagging along two young kids, one just an infant, little did I know that I was choosing to distance myself from my roots and that it would not always be easy. At times it seems like yesterday when we were fresh off the boat and some other times, it is like this is where I was always meant to be.
Belonging to what we call " visible minority" in India, the pressure to fit in was intense even as a kid. I did fit in, but pretentiously - like a round ball trying to fit into a square peg, except that I pretended that I was square . I am a rebel - a punk, I have never found it easy to fit into a community based on religion, region or any other commonalities that bring people together . There are people who belong, and then there are the outsiders. The oddballs, souls that probably do not belong to the current generation, looking to fit in, or trying to find their lost clan. And find they must, because we humans need to be part of something bigger than ourselves, we need to connect, we need to belong and feel at home.
Canada is a land of immigrants. It is where we oddballs, rebels and adventurers from all over the world have decided to settle. Where Terry Fox and Rick Hansen are more popular and inspirational than any politician. I have realized that this is home. This beautiful, and accepting country, and its people who have taught me to be kind, polite and giving. I am surrounded by displaced people, individualists, people who didn't belong to their respective countries. People who were risk takers, who were looking for a better life. They are my clan. Your religion, colour, language, nothing matters, except that we are all here together, holding on to our traditional values while assimilating the Canadian values - values of volunteerism, acceptance and openness
I have changed over the years - become not just tolerant, but welcoming and embracing the different cultures . Every time I look at the people using public transit, I am fascinated by the diversity of this country. Wear a turban, hijab or head tie - or shave your head or tatoo it, it is all the same . There is something about kindness and being nice - it changes you. Makes you want to be a better person. A Louise giving a new immigrant like me a ride to college every day for a year, picking and dropping without fail, was my introduction to Canadian values.
We are all here for different reasons, but we connect through stories of displacement, and a sense of adventure. We share pinning for countries of youth and, lost friends, we understand the struggles to adapt to a foreign land, making it your own. And we know that every first generation immigrant who came before us, went through the same process of assimilation.
Belonging to what we call " visible minority" in India, the pressure to fit in was intense even as a kid. I did fit in, but pretentiously - like a round ball trying to fit into a square peg, except that I pretended that I was square . I am a rebel - a punk, I have never found it easy to fit into a community based on religion, region or any other commonalities that bring people together . There are people who belong, and then there are the outsiders. The oddballs, souls that probably do not belong to the current generation, looking to fit in, or trying to find their lost clan. And find they must, because we humans need to be part of something bigger than ourselves, we need to connect, we need to belong and feel at home.
I have changed over the years - become not just tolerant, but welcoming and embracing the different cultures . Every time I look at the people using public transit, I am fascinated by the diversity of this country. Wear a turban, hijab or head tie - or shave your head or tatoo it, it is all the same . There is something about kindness and being nice - it changes you. Makes you want to be a better person. A Louise giving a new immigrant like me a ride to college every day for a year, picking and dropping without fail, was my introduction to Canadian values.
We are all here for different reasons, but we connect through stories of displacement, and a sense of adventure. We share pinning for countries of youth and, lost friends, we understand the struggles to adapt to a foreign land, making it your own. And we know that every first generation immigrant who came before us, went through the same process of assimilation.
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