Figuring out this place called home is a problem (87). Why? Why is it so problematic to figure out this place we call home: Canada? Consider this question in context with Chamberlin’s discussion on imagination and reality; belief and truth (use the index).Chamberlin says, “the sad fact is, the history of settlement around the world is the history of displacing other people from their lands, of discounting their livelihoods and destroying their languages” (78). Chamberlin goes on to “put this differently” (Para. 3). Explain that “different way” of looking at this, and discuss what you think of the differences and possible consequences of these “two ways” of understanding the history of settlement in Canada.
“Except for the idea of a creator, there is no idea quite as bewildering as the idea of home, nor one that causes as many conflicts.” – J. Edward Chamberlin
Indeed, there is great difficulty in attempting to define the place we call home- especially the place that we call Canada. Edward Chamberlin asks, “Can one land ever really be home to more than one people?” (4). A proud Canadian would answer the question with an emphatic “yes”. After all, what does Canada pride itself on if not its inclusivity? Unlike the melting pot that is the United States, Canada boasts (if that’s the appropriate term for a humble Canadian) of being a mosaic, a place where cultures can maintain their traditions and beliefs. However, what we like to believe can be quite different from reality, and Edward Chamberlin does not hesitate to address this misguided notion in If this is your Land, Where are the Stories?
When discussing the idea of “home”, Chamberlin brings in the dichotomy of imagination and reality. Imagination is what we like to believe; most Canadians like to believe that Canada is a multi-cultural, respectful place where we deserve to live, thanks to our inherent “Canadian-ness”. Reality, on the other hand, refers to the objective truth, and in reference to Canada, the objective truth is that we are descendents of colonizers, living on a graveyard of languages and livelihoods.
Chamberlin says, “the sad fact is, the history of settlement around the world is the history of displacing other people from their lands, of discounting their livelihoods and destroying their languages” (78). He then rephrases this idea, drawing parallels between the history of settlement and the history of many of the world’s conflicts. Settlement involves dismissing people, language, and livelihoods. Conflicts, he writes, involve dismissing beliefs and behaviors. To “settle” is generally a positive notion (after all, isn’t it desirable to “settle” our conflicts?) yet, ultimately, settlement and conflict stem from the same treatment of others.
What do these ideas mean to our understanding of Canadian history? Historians will say that Europeans settled in the land that eventually became Canada. Their actions are a reflection of Chamberlin’s explanation of settlement; indigenous people were removed from their land (with many sent off to residential schools or reservations), belief systems and cultural practices were banned (perhaps most notable is the banning of the potlatch), and languages were destroyed through the implementation of rules and laws that forbade the use of traditional languages. Consequently, we now have two narratives of Canada: the story of an accepting and progressive society, and the often-dismissed story of cultural genocide.
In Imagined Communities, sociologist Benedict Anderson defines a nation as an “imagined political community- one that is both inherently limited and sovereign” (51). Anderson argues that a nation is imagined because members of a nation will never meet most of their fellow members, but possess “the image of their communion” (51). In a country as spread out as Canada, Anderson is right in saying that we will likely meet only the smallest fraction of other Canadians. However, his idea of communion is flawed. Sadly, the imagined sameness of fellow community members-fellow Canadians- possessed of the same fundamental “Canadian-ness”’ allows for the fantasy of a joining, a togetherness, that is, upon even cursory examination, more imagination than reality.
Works Cited
Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso, 1983. Print.
Chamberlin, J. Edward. If This is Your Land, Where are Your Stories? Finding Common Ground. Toronto: Vintage Canada, 2004. Print.
Palmer, Harold. “Mosaic versus Melting Pot?: Immigration and Ethnicity in Canada and the United States.” International Journal. 31.3 (1976): 488-528. JSTOR. Web. 13 January 2019.
Schneider, Howard. “Canada: A Mosaic, Not a Melting Pot.” The Washington Post. The Washington Post. 5 July 1998. Web. 14 January 2019.
Image of Canadian Flag. N.p., n.d. Queens University. Web. 13 January 2019.
Hi there,
I really enjoyed this thoughtful response. I was particularly struck by the article by Benedict Anderson, and the suggestion that a nation is an “imagined political community”; I thought this wording drew interesting parallels with Chamberlin’s idea of oral and written cultures as “babbling and doodling” that becomes meaningful due to our shared commitment to believe in, or imagine, a shared system. I find it really interesting that Anderson acknowledges the idea of a nation as “limited”, but seemingly fails to draw a comparison to the cultural divisions within our country, instead focusing on how we will fail to meet certain people, live in certain areas, etc. He seems to draw a comparison to our vastness, rather than to our history of settlement, colonization, and exploitation.
How do we reconcile the need for a shared value system and unification with the reality of our diversity, our vast geography, and the fact that our nation frequently does not recognize it’s own history? If it is easier and more pleasant to think of Canada as multicultural, diverse, and inclusive, how can we encourage Canada and Canadians to reconcile the realities of Canada’s past and present? Is it even necessary to have the goal of shared value systems in order to have a functional nation, or is this “imagined community” impractical within the realities of modern life?
I agree- if we want to have an authentic shared value system that includes diversity, we absolutely must reconcile the realities of the past and present.
I know that so much goes into the debate of what it means to be Canadian, or American, or Italian. I like to think that a large part of one’s national identity is based on the idea that a country does have a shared value system., and that being of that nationality means sharing those values, perhaps even more so than possessing a mere passport. However, because Canada is so vast and so diverse, I think it’s necessary that these values be very inclusive. Can we not agree on the values of respect and diversity? Of course, I understand that these are very broad ideas, and can then be interpreted differently by all. But then again, is that not another value- the idea that we live in a democratic country where everyone may have different values, but we can respect the views of others, and ensure that our “rights” do not infringe on the rights (especially the basic human rights) of others?
Great post Marianne! You got me thinking about a few things…
I’m not sure your really understood the import of Chamberlin’s distinction between reality and imagination. He certainly wasn’t making the rather uninteresting distinction between truth and falsity, wanted and actual, object and subjective, ect. In fact, he implores us to get out of this dichotomous thinking. For instance, he quotes Frye saying to “send our imaginitive roots into the mysterious world between the ‘is’ and the ‘is not’ which is where our ultimate freedom lies.” (124)
He does seem opaque with his use of “imagination”, perhaps on purpose. I think he approaches the concept as would a philosophical pragmatist, namely, on focusing on what our imagination does rather than is. What it does is provides content that allow for “ceremonies of beliefs” between people, thereby creating social cohesion.
So it is our Canadian sameness that provides cohesion amongst Canadians. Although our essential Canadian qualities are rather benign, even stupid to some (e.g. liking maple syrup, saying sorry a lot), it doesn’t matter because they are the stories we tell ourselves to be part of the group.
However, this line of thinking takes a dark turn when we shift our story to the “unremmitent terror” the first inhabitants of this country faced and continue to face in order for us to feel like we’re Canadian. We made them homeless so we can call this place home.
I too found Chamberlin a little opaque in his use of “imagination”. Personally, I understood his use of imagination (in reference to the discussion of “home”) as a referral to hope. When Chamberlin writes about how Rastafarians use stories that “will bring them back home while they wait for reality to catch up with their imagination” (77), I see a dichotomy. I see a distinction between the “home” (or lack thereof) that is reality for many- such as “Palestinians living in refugee camps on land that their parents once called their own” (77) and “aboriginal peoples around the world, homeless in their homeland” (77)- and their “imagined homes”, which is a place of acceptance and belonging.
I really enjoy how Chamberlin unpacks the structure around the meaning people give to things. This moves beyond merely distinguishing between meaning (e.g. home) and the object of meaning (e.g. land). This distinction is important of course but I like what Chamberlin does with it.
cheers!
Hi Marianne,
This was such a thoughtful and well-written blog to read, and the way you wrote really struck me with the severity of the situation that I have otherwise overlooked. In the few narratives we hear about the Indigenous Peoples, there is this grand notion of recognition and reconciliation. Ironically, even though the matter revolving around the Indigenous community is considered part of Canada’s “dark past” and something that is to be “ashamed of”, there is also a sort of pride that emerges with the idea that we are on the road to reconciliation, the sense that “we know we’ve done wrong, but we are better people now.” While it is undeniably a step forward, the severity of what settlers have done gets lost in this peaceful, loving reconciliation narrative. Your words, “Reality, on the other hand, refers to the objective truth, and in reference to Canada, the objective truth is that we are descendants of colonizers, living on a graveyard of languages and livelihoods,” made me emotional towards the subject matter that I have never been before. It gave me the image that we are standing upon the ashes of what used to be Canada and built our own lives upon it. We buried the voices and stories of those who once called this land a home, and silenced them through cruel efforts. Yet we stand here now, puff out our chests, and think we have the right to reconciliation solely because we are just starting to recognize what we’ve done. How do we even begin to wipe off the ashes we have trampled on for decades? And how can we even have the heart to ask for forgiveness in such light-hearted ways, when we are standing on their graves?
Overall, thank you for this blog. It really made me think.
Thank you for your feedback! I agree; I think we do often pat ourselves on the back too much when it comes to reconciliation. Absolutely, I think we are starting to head down the right path, but there is a long way to go.
Your comment reminded me of a conversation my husband and I recently had- we were talking about the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, and how much indigenous imagery was used to promote the games. While I think it’s wonderful to acknowledge Canada’s First People, I can’t help but wonder if it was more of a gimmick than an authentic act of recognition.
Hi Marianne –
Thank you for your post! I think you’ve highlighted many of the troubles, failures and illusions that are held onto by Canadians for the sake of national pride.
I’d like to add a reflection to Anderson’s definition of nation as an imagined political community, as I am very blessed nowadays to live on the lands of the Nisga’a Nation (https://www.google.ca/maps/place/Nisga'a+Nation,+BC/@55.1748657,-129.9819181,9z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x540b6bb5359e304d:0xe0ea76b61e6cc083!8m2!3d55.0760082!4d-129.4080936) where communities are still connected through ceremonies such as Hoobiye (the Nisga’a new year, and annual telling of the Nisga’a creation stories), and are in communion through relationships to the same landscapes, the same changes of season, same run of salmon, the same passing storms, and shared relations dating back hundreds, if not thousands, of years. To be perceived as legitimate, the Nisga’a Nation had to be proven through colonial courts (both BC and Canada) and, in 2000, the first of the modern treaties in BC was signed, officially granting the land and governance back to the Nisga’a Nation (more here: http://www.nisgaanation.ca/understanding-treaty). Though its a shame that the Nisga’a had to prove their nationhood over hundreds of years to BC and to Canada, it gives me hope to live on their Nation’s territories, respecting their laws and ways of life, their bylaws and language, sharing in the spawning salmon and changing weathers, and the stories of how the lava rock came to be. Still, the Nisga’a haven’t rid themselves of colonial violence, but they can turn to their own governance models and ways of knowing to generate wellness and hope. Though I understand why other nations are unwilling or uninterested in coming to agreement through treaty with the government, the Nisga’a’s nested sovereignty gives me hope for a new Canada of many nations and many names… where Canada loses its relevancy.
Thanks for sharing that! You’re right… it is a shame that the Nisga’a had to fight to be acknowledged in a judicial system that is not even their own traditional system but it is uplifting to hear of the outcome. I think that healing and moving forward will only truly happen once governance (including education) is back in the hands of the communities.
Anderson’s idea of an imagined community seems to really take on a different meaning when you describe the Nisga’a traditions, shared among people with similar values and a shared past!