Our Canadian identity is under attack! And in this moment of crisis we turn to Gordie Howe, a sometimes belligerent, always obstinate, strong-bodied potter of pucks and placer of penal elbows. A goal, an assist and a new gap between your opponent’s teeth were the holy components of the ballyhooed Howe hattrick.
He casts a long shadow, does Howe, having began his career in the 1940s and ended it in the 1980s at the rich age of 52.
But casting long shadows is not a particularly Canadian trait. Living under the long spread of a shadow is. Like the one being perpetually cast by our increasingly oligarchical neighbour to the south.
We have, over the years, groused about our American neighbours and their tendency to take up all the light, to the point that that grousing is a distinct part of our national consciousness. Bu-ut, like so much moss, we nonetheless have adapted and thrived in that shade.
It wasn’t long before we grew right up the trunk of the great tree and would in fact do terribly if it were gone, or even if its shade were reduced.
And here we now sit in the harsh glare of a new light. Photo-journalistic flashes pop! The headlines blare: The 51st state! 35% tariffs! Governor Carney! Our national consciousness, normally a thick, simmering, indistinct stew has been brought to a splattering boil, though is no more distinct, Gordie Howe-isms aside.
We Canadians are always straining a bit not necessarily to find our national identity, but to express it adequately. We see the boisterous ways of the USA and hesitate to ape it, knowing only too well what those on the outside looking in think of that stance.
Recent attempts to vocalize our national identity seems somewhat oblivious of the idea that maybe this reluctance to be overtly nationalistic is in fact one of our more endearing and forward-thinking traits.
We are reluctant to tell the world who we are; in fact, we’d rather the world tell us. You say we’re polite? Okay, we’re polite then and will henceforth try to live up to that billing. Anything else? We’re not American? That’s true! Anything else?
Apparently, that’s about it: one national trait (politeness) to match our one national dish (poutine).
But before we capitulate to what an ambivalent world thinks is our national identity, let’s take a bit of time and try and define it ourselves.
Songs are usually a good place to start.
Except it doesn’t take long to realize there aren’t that many songs (outside the national anthem) that are about Canada, apparently anathema to songwriters.
At the top of most people’s list (of a certain age, I suppose) is Gordon Lightfoot’s “Canadian Railway Trilogy”. But even this was a song commissioned by the CBC rather than something Lightfoot decided was important to write. On a far lighter note, there’s Bob and Doug McKenzie’s “Take Off (to the Great White North)”, various Stompin’ Tom Connors songs (“Big Joe Muffaraw”, “Bud the Spud”, “Sudbury Saturday Night”), Stan Rogers’ pre-confederation anthem (“Northwest Passage”), Neil Young’s wistful reminiscing on “Helpless”, and Bruce Cockburn’s Toronto-centric “Coldest Night of the Year”.
Based only on these songs, an artist’s composite sketch would show a place of vast distances and a people who will overcome great hardship and tragedy to traverse it (it’s a beauty way to go!). They are a big, strong, sentimental, often drunk people who socialize to prevent latent depression from crystalizing but will stand up to the hardest test, right on the table!
So, a somewhat mixed-up person and surely a larger-than-life cartoon character and so not a real representation of anything but a stereotype. Fortunately, there are other clues.
The industrious beaver is our national animal, a belligerent goose gets our country’s name, the lonely loon gets a coin. These three creatures do kind of sum up what it’s like to be Canadian: you must be industrious, occasionally belligerent (elbows up!), but will cry out at times from the loneliness of the place. You may also migrate south for the winter.
A lot of what makes Canadians Canadian is what we endure: the cold, the bugs, our neighbours, the way most non-Canadians look at us as inconsequential to the running of the world at large. Oh, we tell ourselves we have made an impact globally (Vimy Ridge! Rush!), but really, having grand worldly ambitions is fairly un-Canadian.
And those who have had those ambitions, having realized them, instantly become what’s known as “secretly Canadian,” their national identity left back at the border.
So, our national identity may not be readily apparent, and to those countries with a mighty military and taste for veal, we probably look like the fattest of calves. So up go the elbows. But this is all a bit blustery and not how we Canadians typically wend our way through the world.
Perhaps a better role model from our past to more accurately define what it means to be a Canadian is Terry Fox. He didn’t say too much, and he wasn’t the biggest or strongest person around. He spelled nothing out and he left little in the way of a motto.
What he did leave us with was an indelible image of what a Canadian faced with a difficult situation looks like: eyes focused on the road ahead, content with a progress that is steady but slow, and elbows at his sides.
D’Arcy Closs lives in Greater Sudbury. A rotating stable of community members share their thoughts on anything and everything, the only criteria being that it be thought-provoking. Got something on your mind to share with readers in Greater Sudbury? Climb aboard our Soapbox and have your say. Send material or pitches to [email protected].