March
Children’s Literature and Canadian National Identity: A Revisionist Perspective
The Search for my Gender Identity
Our Culture’s Native Roots: The Native Contribution to Canadian Culture and Identity
Growing Up Ukrainian in Toronto
Alternatives to Black-focused Schools
January
Canadian Culture and Identity
December
Golfers I have known . . ..
November
Early Memories of my Emerging Literacy
The Post Modern High School: Thinking Outside the Box
Children’s Literature and Canadian
National Identity: A Revisionist Perspective
Note: This article was originally published in the fall issue of the quarterly journal Canadian Children’s Literature
Summary: Canadian children’s literature can play an important role in affirming a Canadian
culture and identity. The school has always played and, whether we like it or not, always will play,
an important role in promoting a national perspective. This article argues that there are
commonplaces of our Canadian culture and identity that are inclusive of Canadians of all racial
and ethonocultural origins and from all parts of Canada. The promotion of any national viewpoint
is usually directed at the secondary level where Can-Lit and Canadian history become a focus for
study. This viewpoint has traditionally been a Eurocentric perspective that has ignored the reality
of Canada’s current diversity. A focus on the secondary level ignores the fact that most societies
have traditionally focussed on inducting their youth into the “tribe” before the age of thirteen.
Therefore elementary schools have an important role to play in telling the Canadian story through
children’s literature, a literature that can not only reveal the splendour of our regional diversity,
but one that can promote equity, justice and fairness through the richness of our multicultural
literature.
Resume: L’auteur rappelle Ie r8le essentiel (fue joue {’institution scolaire dans I ‘affirmation de
I’identite et de la culture canadiennes; il plaide en favour de I ‘abandon de la vision eurocentrique
traditionnelle et d’une plus grande ouverture a la diversite et au pluralisme. A cet egard, I’ecole
primaire devrait non seulement sensibiliser les eleves a la variete des productions regionales mais
aussi promouvoir I’egalite, la justice et la tolerance grace a la diffusion d’une litterature de plus
en plus multiculturelle.
Many Canadians believe that there is such regional, cultural, linguistic and religious diversity in this country that we do not in fact have an overriding culture or identity. But even those who express this belief are quick to distance us Canadians from our American neighbours and from our British and French roots. I would like to argue that there are in fact powerful commonplaces in our culture and identity — shared values that most Canadians can identify with — and that the school is an important place to explore, discuss and debate these commonplaces. I especially want to suggest that, because story and literature are important ways to reveal these commonplaces, there can be a powerful connection between Canadian literature and Canadian cultural identity, a connection educators should take advantage of. Nor is it just a matter of including Canadian literature at the secondary school level. Since it is in the early years before puberty that who we are really comes into focus, I believe it is imperative that we give young children access to the rich body of Canadian children’s literature.
Schools in Canada and elsewhere have always conveyed cultural andpolitical views, and they will continue to do so whether we like it or not. In thepast, of course, these views were dominated largely by the white male European
perspective of the most dominant powers in society; but as the conviction of somany that there is no over-riding Canadian culture suggests, this is no longertrue. The culture and identity we all share is multi-faceted, and not dominated by any one group. The difficult task schools now face, therefore, is determininghow to convey our culture and identity in a way that is inclusive of all Canadians, so that justice and equity are underlying principles of the curriculum.
How Cultures Have Traditionally Transmitted Their Values
In most culturally homogeneous countries, children grow up hearing and learning the stories that define their culture: myths, legends, folklore, historic tidbits, tales of heroes and villains, miraculous tales and tales of courage and achievement. These shared stories lie at the heart of a culture’s identity. Literature, arts and crafts, music, dance, film, and poetry blend together over time to crystallize an image that says, “This is who we are.” The shared stories provide a culture with its values and beliefs, its goals and traditions. The myths, legends, folk tales, histories, and experiences of any cultural group bind the individuals together to form a cohesive society which allows people to communicate with each other and to work together with a shared purpose. These common stories become the foundation of public discourse, and they are a source of pride in their community.
The education of children is central to this process. According to E.D. Hirsch Jr., “The weight of human tradition across many cultures supports the view that basic acculturation should largely be completed by age thirteen. At
that age Catholics are confirmed, Jews bar or bat mitzvahed, and tribal boys and girls undergo the rites of passage into the tribe” (30). Hirsch traces how Korean children traditionally memorize the five Kyung and the four Su. In Tibet, boys from eight to ten read aloud and learn the scriptures, in Chile the Araucanian Indians use songs to leam the customs and traditions of their tribe. The Bushmen children of South Africa listen to hours of discussion until they know the history of every aspect of their culture.
Hirsch also traces how the education system has been used to convey a national culture in modem nations. Traditionally on any particular day in France, for example, each child in each grade would be reading the same page
in the same textbook. In the history of American education, the text book has been a constant source of debate over attempts to control the culture transmitted through the schools.
Hirsch cites an example of the influence of one particular document in defining a culture. In 1783, Hugh Blair, a Scot from the University of Edinburgh published Lectures on Rhetoric and Belle Lettres, intended as a compendium of
what every Scot needed to know if he or she were to read and write well in English. This book had enormous impact on curriculum in school systems throughout the English-speaking world. Widely used in Great Britain, US and
Canada between 1783 and 1911, the book went through 130 editions! Blair defined English literary culture for use initially by the Scots, later by colonials like Canadians and Americans; and eventually it became the standard for
educating Englishmen and women.
In Nations & Nationalism (1983), Ernest Gellner argues that, viewed from a historical perspective, it has been the school and not the home that has been the decisive factor in creating national cultures in modern nations. Literate
national cultures, he maintains, are school-transmitted cultures. He asserts that the chief creators of the modern nation have been school teachers; they helped create the modern nation state. They perpetuate it and make it thrive. The history of Europe has shown that the schools play a major role in thecreation of a national culture. Even in the United States with its many disparate groups, the schools have done much to create a national culture through such common shared stories, both real and imagined, as George Washington, Daniel Boone, Tom Sawyer, and Casey at the Bat, as well as through the promotion of strong central shared values and symbols of patriotism.
The history of the evolution of nationalism in country after country indicates clearly that a national culture is an artificial, created construct. Discussing how nation builders use a patchwork of folk materials, old songs,
legends, dances, and historical tidbits, selected and re-interpreted by intellectuals to create a national culture, Gellner says, “The cultural shreds and patches used by nationalism are often arbitrary inventions, any old shred or patch would have served as well…. Nationalism is not what it seems and above all, not what it seems to itself. The culture it claims to defend is often its own invention” (56).
While these readings and discussions have illuminated for me how culture has been transmitted during our recent world history of colonialism and nationalism, they have unsettling implications. Hirsch, for instance, laments
what he sees as the disintegration of central core values and a shared common knowledge in recent years. He argues for the need to identify what every American needs to know, and works to promote a return to a narrowly
Eurocentric curriculum based on the glories of Greek civilization, the British Empire, and the Bible. While the European civilizations, and in particular, British and French traditions, are an integral part of our identity, they are but one significant facet among many facets.
Yes the school is, and always has been a major purveyor of a national viewpoint. But what kind of a viewpoint do we want to promote for the future? Any examination of the curricula of the past reveals a program of indoctrination
into the culture and mores of those in power. The old African proverb is still true: “Until lions have their own historians, tales of bravery and courage will be told about the hunter.” Or, as Napoleon put it more bluntly, “History is a set of lies agreed upon”(cited in Wright 2). History is written by winners (Wright). The winners write the school curriculum and decide what stories will be told and what literature will be read.
As the child of immigrant Ukrainian parents in grade seven and eight in Toronto in the late 1940s, I vividly remember spending hours memorizing the Kings and Queens of England in chronological order. Later in high school I read the required stories and novels of Rudyard Kipling, Charles Dickens and Jane Austen, and the poetry of Tennyson and Wordsworth. I do not recall ever reading any Canadian authors. The children’s books in the local library reflected this Anglocentric curriculum. I grew up feeling that I was somehow an outsider in Canada despite the fact that I was bom in the country. Nor was I alone: My current research into the life histories of racial minority teachers in Canada reveals time and again that as students these young Canadians did not see themselves reflected in the curriculum of their schools. These experiences illustrate how recently in our history educators perceived the transmission of traditional culture as a major function of schools. It was clear who the winners were.
Revisioning the Traditional Culture
Since Prime Minister Trudeau proclaimed the policy of Multiculturalism in 1971, there has been a remarkable change in our official notions about our culture. It is no longer officially English or French-based or Eurocentric. Indeed, Trudeau said, “While we have two official languages we have no official culture, no one culture is more official than another” (italics mine). I have long celebrated Trudeau’s statement; but the longer I ponder it the more I have
difficulty with the words, “we have no official culture….” It seems to imply what many have said for decades, that Canada has no cultural identity at all. The insistence on no official culture has resulted in a backlash against
multiculturalism, while multiculturalists struggle to stem the tide of racism and disempowerment.
Education, then, is caught between conflicting demands. As Grossberg suggests, on the one hand, there is the discourse of multiculturalism and liberation which calls for a democratic culture based on social difference and which is usually predicated on a theory of identity and representation. On the other side there is a discourse of conservatism based on canonical notions of general education and a desire to impose what it cannot justify — the existence of an illusory common culture. (10)
Simply, there is a lament over the loss of a culture rooted in Western civilization and values, and there is also the cry for equity and a multicultural curriculum. Must there be a dualism? Is there an alternative to these two positions? Amidst the remarkable diversity of this country are there inclusive commonplaces? Can a patchwork quilt of our stories welcome all Canadians?
It is helpful to review some history surrounding some of these issues. We have been inundated the last few years with critical examinations of the meaning and purpose of multiculturalism and its affects on the curriculum in
the school. Popular best selling books like Hirsch’s Cultural Literacy, Bibby’s Mosaic Madness and Bissoondath’s Selling Illusions have promoted a return to a traditionalist view. In Henry Giroux’s view, they have “argued that
multiculturalism posits a serious threat to the school’s traditional task of defending and transmitting an authentic national history, a uniform standard of cultural literacy, and a singular national identity for all citizens to embrace” (1). The heated position of the traditionalists is best demonstrated by Roger Kimbal’s provocative statement:
Implicit in the politicizing mandate of multiculturalism is an attack on the idea of common culture, the idea that despite our many differences, we hold in common an intellectual, artistic, and moral legacy, descending largely
from the Greeks and the Bible/supplemented and modified over the centuries by innumerable contributions from diverse hands and peoples. It is this legacy that has given us our science, our political institutions, and the
monuments of artistic and cultural achievement that define us as a civilization. Indeed it is this legacy, insofar as we live up to it, that preserves us from chaos and barbarism. And it is precisely this legacy that the multiculturalists wish to +dispense with. (6; italics mine)
This position is widely held in Canada as well. The notion that our cultural mosaic and regional and ethnic differences can promote “chaos and barbarism” is a form of extremism that is not useful in promoting a constructive dialogue.
An alternative is to think of culture as, in Gates’s words, “a conversation among different voices.” Is it possible, by identifying a set of commonplaces, to balance the traditionalist objective and yet incorporate a multicultural,
inclusive and liberating perspective? Is it possible for diversity to be a source of cultural identity? Is the idea of multiple loyalties and identities possible within the framework of a national culture and identity?
I personally identify with my Ukrainian heritage, my Toronto and Ontario regional roots, with immigrant cultures, as well as feeling an overriding identity with Canada and even a pervading global outlook. Survey data
indicate strong regional loyalties and identities in many parts of Canada, far stronger than any regional loyalties in the United States; yet the evidence shows that the stronger the regional loyalty, the stronger the identity with Canada (Lipset).
As individuals we hold a complex set of loyalties and cultural identities,particularly in Canada. We have a strong bond to place — neighbourhood or community; often a strong affinity to our bio-region — the Maritimes or the Prairies, for example; often also a bond to our ethnic and/or our linguistic heritage, and to our religious group; and finally, to our country. For manyCanadians there is even a strong feeling of loyalty to, and identity with, the planet. We move in and out of our various “tribes” with ease and comfort. The complexity of our “tribal” relations is in fact quite extraordinary. We are a mass of hierarchical, overlapping, shifting, often contradictory and conflicting loyalties and identities.
Given this complexity, one might ask why national identity and culture are so controversial. Among many academics, nationalism is a concept in disrepute. At one extreme, David Trend declares, “Nationality is a fiction. It is
a story people tell themselves about who they are, where they live and how theygot there” (225). And in Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin andSpread a/Nationalism, Benedict Anderson demonstrates how nationalism is only a recent phenomenon in human history. He finds its origins in the late eighteenthcentury, and points out three paradoxes about it. The first is “the objective modernity of nations to the historian’s eye vs. their subjective antiquity in the eye of nationalists.” The second is “the formal universality of nationality as a socio-cultural concept — [the idea] in the modem world that everyone can, should, will ‘have’ a nationality, as he or she has a gender….” The third paradox is “the ‘political’ power of nationalisms vs. their philosophical poverty and even incoherence.” Anderson comments that, as Gertrude Stein referred to Oakland, one can quickly conclude with respect to nationalism that “there is no there there”(2).
But despite his unwavering scorn for the concept of nationalism, Anderson reflects on the continuing process:
And many ‘old nations,’ once thought fully consolidated, find themselves challenged by ’sub’-nationalism within their borders — nationalisms which, naturally, dream of shedding this sub-ness one happy day. The reality is
quite plain: the ‘end of the era of nationalism,’ so long prophesied, is not remotely in sight. Indeed, nation-ness is the most universally legitimate value in the political life of our time. (3)
Why Culture and Identity need to Be Addressed in the Schools
Regardless of how we feel about this debate, nation-ness is with us. Nationalism is clearly not going to go away. It is unlikely we can do much about it. We can, however, make every effort to ensure that the manner in which our nation-ness is promoted in the school is based on democratic principles of justice and equity, concepts which also lie at the core of our Canadian commonplaces. As a pragmatist educator I am confronted with the problem of observing a gathering of fundamentalist, traditionalist and conservative forces which are erupting across this country and whose views are consistent with those of Roger Kimbal — that the legacy of western civilization and the Bible saves us from “chaos and barbarism.” They are fanning a backlash and are profoundly influencing the policy-makers and practitioners to bring back their “common culture,” a move which they see as a return to essentially an exclusive Eurocentric Christian society. They view the schools as having a central role in transmitting their view of our common culture through a common curriculum.
“Some argue that in an increasingly multicultural society there is a need for a common literacy; others propose that we are moving toward a culture of many literacies” (Trend 227). I propose bridging these two positions — that we
work towards a common literacy as long as the common literacy is inclusive of all Canadians.
This sort of bridging of these positions requires a revisioning of our traditional notions of our culture. For example, we have to recognize the temporal character of culture. As Tomlinson points out, “There is no such thing
as a single national culture that remains the same year after year. Nations are constantly assimilating, combining and revising their national characters” (as cited in Trend 229). In a speech given by Sheldon Hackney, Chairman of the
National Endowment for the Arts in 1993, he claims, “All ethnic groups have permeable boundaries, and the meaning of any particular identity will change over time … History has a way of changing who we think we are.” Hackney
postulates a view of America that I believe is equally true of Canada: “There isan American identity that is different from the identities of any one of the ethnic groups that comprise the American population, that is inclusive of all of them and that is available to everyone who is an American.”
Commonplaces of Canadian Culture and Identity
One way in which culture and identity can be addressed from a revisionist stance is by approaching the issue from the perspective of commonplaces of our culture accessible to all. It is important to identify these commonplaces, not
because they are finite, correct, or complete enough to end the debate, but simply because they can provide a starting point for further debate and discussion. As Richard Rorty has argued, it is not so important to arrive at the
absolute truth as it is to “keep the conversation going” (1982).
While Canadian culture is constantly evolving, I am convinced that it is tied together by a number of commonplaces which most Canadians consciously or unconsciously accept, promote and take pride in, commonplaces which
permeate many aspects of our society and reveal some central truths about our country. Elsewhere, I have discussed ten such commonplaces in some detail (Diakiw 1996). Let me list them here:
1. Canada: A wilderness nation, a land of awesome size and grandeur, with savage beauty and incredible obstacles. Despite our largely urban existence our wilderness preoccupies our psyche, our literature,
our arts, our mythology.
2. Canada: A country of diverse and distinctive regions with powerful regional identities — Quebec, the Maritimes, the Prairies, for example.
3. Canada: A democratic, multi-faith nation with remarkable freedoms.Equity is enshrined in our Charter of Rights and Freedoms, but we are nevertheless a nation marked by equity struggles yet unfolding, for First Nations, women, people of colour, and French Canadians.
4. Canada: A nation with a strong sense of social welfare. A social safety net is part of our tradition, a tradition that is the envy of many of our neighbours to the south.
5. Canada: Home of our First Nations. Our Native roots are deeply entwined in our Canadian way.
6. Canada: A nation of immigrants. We cherish our multicultural mosaic, our immigrant culture — this immigrant culture has forever attracted adventurers, inventors and entrepreneurs.
7. Canada: A nation state founded initially on the cultures of France and England. They have profoundly contributed to many of our institutions, laws and principles. Most of us respect and support our bilingual society and our distinct Francophone culture centered in Quebec.
8. Canada: A nation of enormous resources with a vibrant, inventive economy. Our identity is in part a product of this economy, one that permits one of the highest standards of living of any nation in the world.
9. Canada: A nation of rich cultural traditions in the arts, sports and popular culture. We have a legacy of distinctive creative and artistic achievement in all the arts, provided by institutions such as the CBC, the NFB, the National Ballet, the Montreal Symphony, the Canadian Opera Company as well as by individuals like Bryan Adams, Alanis
Morriset, Celine Dion, and our many comedians.
10. Canada: Peace-keepers for the world and a partner with all nations.Our long history as peace-keepers and mediators, our participation in international organizations, our long involvement with developing
nations, and our comparatively open immigration and refugee polices, confirm our global commitment as global citizens and our family ties to virtually every country in the world.
In struggling to identify these commonplaces, I asked myself a series of questions. Do they provide ample latitude to address critical issues in our society? Do they provide for a new multicultural curriculum that provides
opportunities for students to become, in Henry Giroux’s words, “border crossers”? As Giroux states, “Teachers must be educated to become border crossers, to explore zones of cultural difference by moving in and out of the
resources, histories and narratives that provide different students with a sense of identity, place and possibility” (11). And finally, do the commonplaces reveal that there is a Canadian identity that is different from any one of the ethnic or regional identities that comprise the Canadian population, and are also different,for example, from an American identity?
I believe that the answer to all these questions is yes. Canada is a complex nation with multiple characteristics and identities. Its identity is comprised of layer upon layer of physical, regional, linguistic, ethnic, religious and cultural variations. While any one of the commonplaces I listed may also be characteristic of other nations, the layering of them, one over another, creates a unique Canadian culture. But despite this complexity, there is a Canadian
culture and identity that emerges from this layering that is different from any one of the regional, cultural or ethnic cultures and identities that exist within Canada. Nevertheless, this national culture and identity is inclusive of all
groups and individuals and is accessible to all Canadians. All regions and ethnocultural groups can relate to these commonplaces.
Most significantly in terms of literature, these commonplaces are rich with stories that are part of our “community of memory.” There are gripping and fascinating stories that emerge from them, whether through narratives of
events or through biographies of remarkable women and men who exemplify them. While there is room for considerable debate and discussion here, these commonplaces are the “stuff” that myths are made of. The big stories of Canada are embedded in them.
The Role of Story and Literature
Story is a powerful and traditional way to provide a common bond for members of a society and to familiarize children with a culture. According to Postman, “Human beings require stories to give meaning to the facts of their existence … nations, as well as people, require stories and may die for a lack of a believable
one” (122). And Bellah states:
Communities in the sense that we are using the term, have a history — in an
important sense they are constituted by their past — and for this reason we
can speak of a real community as a ‘community of memory,’ one that does not
forget its past. In order not to forget the past a community is involved in
retelling its story …. These stories of collective history and exemplary
individuals are an important part of the tradition that is so central to a
community of memory. (153)
It is through stories that our central values and commonplaces are shared. It is through stories that we can preserve and enhance our Native roots, our rich multicultural heritage, while still revealing an understanding of the historic
traditions and structures that created the Canadian nation state. Our stories explore and reveal our commonplaces.
In Survival, Margaret Atwood argues for the important understanding of how our culture is revealed in our literature:
I’m talking about Canada as a state of mind, as a space you inhabit not just
with your body but with your head. It’s that kind of space in which we find
ourselves lost.
What a lost person needs is a map of the territory, with his own position marked on it so he can see where he is in relation to everything else. Literature
is not only a mirror; it is also a map, a geography of the mind. Our literature
is one such map, if we can leam to read it as our literature, as the product of
who and where we have been. We need such a map desperately, we need to
know about here. Because here is where we live. For the members of a country
or a culture, shared knowledge of their place, their here, is not a luxury but
a necessity. Without that knowledge we will not survive. (19)
Canadian Children’s Literature: Toward Understanding Our Culture and
Identity
Because our identities, our attitude to people of different races, our sense of self and therefore probably our sense of a national identity or lack of it, is largely fixed by the end of elementary school, children’s literature can be a powerful
way of sharing a nation’s stories. Fortunately, furthermore, there is now a rich body of Canadian children’s literature which can provide our children with knowledge of our culture and identity — “a map, a geography of the mind.”
Many titles provide rich insight into many of the commonplaces I have identified, and reveal a revisioned Canadian culture consistent with the heritage of our young Canadians from across Canada of all races, religions, and cultures.
A loose collection of such titles, if profiled and shared across Canada, could bind all Canadian school children together in the knowledge that in every school from White Horse to St. John’s, whether Black, First Nation, Chinese, French
Canadian or fourth generation English Canadian, they would all be reading and discussing many of the same Canadian stories, stories in which they can see a reflection of themselves. Through this process they would be inducted into the Canadian “tribe.” These central conceptions and the shared stories, tales, histories, and poems would be the starting point for the beginning of our student’s understanding of a Canadian culture.
In a country in which educational curricula are controlled by individual provinces, however, no authority exists to set any such canon. But at the secondary school level, at least, an unwritten canon has evolved amongst
teachers across Canada. A central core of titles has emerged through word of mouth, through articles and journals, through courses, and through discussions at conferences and meetings. On the Can-Lit discussion group on the internet, for example, scholars and teachers from across Canada share their views about titles and authors they suggest for serious study. No such process has developed at the elementary level, where perhaps the need is greatest. Our students are more familiar with the wonderful children’s authors from England, the United
States and Australia than they are with our own Canadian authors and illustrators. In the faith that a loose list of shared Canadian materials would be of great value, I would like to offer some suggestions about what it might contain.
• Pre-primer alphabet books such as R.K. Gordon’s A Canadian Child’s ABC,
Ann Blades’s By the Sea (a BC alphabet book). Erica Rutherford’s An Island
Alphabet, about PEI, Elizabeth Cleaver’s ABC, Ted Harrison’s A Northern
Alphabet, Stephanie Poulin’s Ah! Belle Cite, A Beautiful City, ABC and A
Halifax ABC. Through these alphabet books, young children become familiar
with many of our Canadian icons.
• Children’s stories by some of our finest writers: Margaret Lawrence’s Olden
Days Coat, Gabrielle Roy’s Clip Tail, Mordecai Richler’s Jacob Two Two and
the Hooded Fang, W. 0. Mitchell’s Jake and the Kid, Parley Mowat’s Owls in the
Family, Ralph Connor’s Glen Carry School Days, Lucy Maud Montgomery’s
Anne of Green Gables, Marshall Saunders’ Beautiful Joe.
• Richly-illustrated picture story books that have entered into our canon,
such as Robert Service’s Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan
McGrew illustrated by Ted Harrison, William Kurelek’s Prairie Boy’s Winter,
Roch Carrier’s The Hockey Sweater, and perhaps even Robert Munsch’s Paper
Bag Princess.
Stories of our multicultural heritage such as lan Wallace’s Chin Chiang and the Dragon Dance and The Sandwich, Ann Blades’s Mary of Mile 18, Paul Yee, Curses of the Third Uncle, Mary Hamilton’s The Tin-lined Trunk, Sing Lim’s
West Coast Chinese Boy, Kit Pearson’s trilogy about war-time guests from England, Laura Langston’s No Such Thing as Far Away, a story set in Chinatown, Ann Alma’s Skateway to Freedom, and Marlene Nourbese Philip’s Harriet’s Daughter. Historical novels such as Susanne Martel’s The King’s Daughter, set in New France; Barbara Smucker’s Days of Terror; Barbara Greenwood’s A Question of Loyalty, Geoffrey Bilson’s Fire over Montreal, Marsha Hewitt’s One Proud Summer, James Reaney’s The Boy With An R in his Hand, Bemice Thurman Hunter’s “Booh/” series, and Janet Lunn’s The Root Cellar, to name just a few. We need to provide opportunities to have children appreciate and celebrate our spiritual and religious diversity through such books as Kathleen Cook-Waldren’s A Wilderness Passover, the Divali story in Rachna Gilmore’s Lights for Gita, Kim So Goodtrack’s ABC’s of Our Spiritual Connection, as well as Christmas stories such as Bud Davidge’s Mummer’s Song, about Christmas in Newfoundland.
The readings should also include stories that capture the majesty and savage grandeur of the country in wilderness survival tales such as Jan Truss’s Jasmin. First Nation stories such as Markoosie’s Harpoon of the Hunter, Jan Andrews’s The Very Last First Time, Grey Owl’s The Adventures of Sajo and the Beaver People, James Houston’s Tikta Liktak: An Eskimo Legend, and Kevin Major’s Blood Red Ochre. Fairy tales and legends from Eva Martin’s Canadian Fairy Tales, Maurice Barbeau’s The Golden Phoenix and other Tales from Quebec and Claude
Aubry’s The Magic Fiddler and Other Legends of French Canada, and First Nation myths and legends, such as William Toye and Elizabeth Cleaver’s How Summer came to Canada or The Loon’s Necklace as well as children’s
literature written and illustrated by Native Canadians, for example, Michael Arvaaluk’s Arctic 123. Poetry selections from anthologies such as Mary Alice Downie and Barbara Robertson’s The New Wind has Wings: Poems from Canada and David Booth’s Till All the Stars Have Fallen.
There are many titles that capture the essence of our many distinctive regions. The Prairies, as one region for example, are portrayed evocatively through such visually splendid titles as Jo Bannatyne-Cugnet’s A Prairie
Alphabet, A Prairie Year and Grampa’s Alkali, David Booth’s Dustbowl, William Kurelek’s A Prairie Boy’s Summer, Jim McGugan’s Josepha: A Prairie Boy’s Story, Marilynn Reynolds’s Belle’s Journey, a story of the Prairies in the
twenties, and of course, the works ofW.O. Mitchell. These and many other titles can convey a sense of the Prairies to young people from across Canada. Similar collections could be pulled together for each of the regions of Canada with the exception of Quebec. It is lamentable that the rich body of children’s literature that exists in Quebec is not widely available in English nor is much of the literature in English available to children in Quebec.
• Biographies too, have an important role to play in creating a Canadian identity, not just the traditional figures included in the curriculum such as our adventurous explorers, founding fathers and sports figures, but including
women, aboriginal and Black heroes in such sources as: Susan Merritt’s Her Story: Women of Canada’s Past, Jo-arm Archibald et al’s Courageous Spirits: Aboriginal Heroes of our Children, and Rosemary Sadlier’s Leading the
Way: Black Women in Canada.
• A rich body of recent historical works are available with the lively retellings of historic events by Pierre Berton, the “Adventures of Canadian History” series, Marsha Boulton’s Just a Minute: Glimpses of our Great Canadian Heritage, and Barbara Greenwood’s, A Pioneer Story, as well as compelling new historical biographies such as Jean Little’s His Banner Over Me, the story of one of Canada’s early female doctors, and new biographies for children including those of Nellie McClung and Roberta Bondar.
• But the Canadian story is not only about successes and heroic deeds. As
Bellah says,
A genuine community of memory will also tell painful stories of shared
suffering that sometimes creates deeper identities than success…. And
if the community is completely honest it will remember stories not only
of suffering received but of suffering inflicted — dangerous memories,
for they call the community to alter ancient evils. The communities of
memory that tie us to the past also turn us toward the future as
communities of hope. They carry a context of meaning that can allow us
to connect our aspirations of a larger whole and see our own efforts being contributions to a common good. (153)
Thus, the list should include stories of the Japanese internment, such as Joy Kogawa’s Naomi’s Road and Shizuye Takashima’s A Childhood in Prison Camp; stories about early slavery and emancipation in Canada, such as
Barbara Smucker’s Underground to Canada; stories about discrimination like Jean Little’s From Anna, Brian Doyle’s Angel Square, Paul Yee’s Tales of Gold Mountain and Ghost Train, Ann Walsh’s Shabash in which a Sikh boy
confronts racism, and Michelle Marineau’s Road to Chlifa, in which Karim emigrates from war-torn Beirut and faces discrimination in Quebec. While discussion and debate would be necessary to identify a core body of exemplary materials, as it has over time at the secondary level, it is important hat they reflect the central commonplaces of Canada’s culture. The selection of these stories would be like creating a patchwork quilt. Each patch or story
would be an individual creation of merit in its own right, but collectively, they would blend together to create a total image. Together these patches would tell the new emerging Canadian story.
While we do have some outstanding resources to begin, it is not enough. We still need to find new ways to tell tales about our heroes, not textbook biographies but fireside tales — tales about our First Nations, our explorers, our
fur traders, our pioneer women, our artists and musicians, our great athletes and scientists; about the settlement of the west, the discovery of our minerals, and the building of our railways, the contributions of our new immigrants;
about our international accomplishments, our Nobel Peace Prize winner; and in particular, we need sources about French Canada to bridge the two solitudes. We need to tell more stories that capture our multicultural heritage —
stories about the Jewish fur traders and settlers who were here even before the English; about the Black Canadian men and women who lived in Nova Scotia two hundred years ago in greater numbers than Scots; about the Chinese
workers who built the railways; about the English, Scottish, Irish, Ukrainian, Finnish, German, Sikh, and Japanese immigrants, to name just a few who broke ground across this country to make Canada what it is today.
Parekh defines multiculturalism in a way that fits appropriately within the intent of my conception of the commonplaces of our identity:
Multiculturalism doesn’t simply mean numerical plurality of different
cultures, but rather a community which is creating, guaranteeing, encouraging
spaces within which different communities are able to grow at their own
pace. At the same time it means creating a public space in which these
communities are able to interact and enrich the existing culture and create a
new consensual culture in which they recognize reflections of their own
identity. (Cited in Giroux 7)
We know that the school is a major purveyor of a political viewpoint. It always has been, and always will be. If we recognize this influence, we can promote a viewpoint that is reflective of all Canadians and that commits us to a continuing search for equity and a society for the new millennium that is free of racism and inequities. The “big” themes or commonplaces of Canadian culture can assist us in suggesting a core of readings for reading aloud, for study or discussion, for every grade from Kindergarten to grade nine in every school in Canada, that
contributes to a truly just, equitable and inclusive society. Through this collective patchwork quilt of shared stories we create “a community of memory,” and we reveal our Canadian culture and identity in a way that allows Canadians from all regions, French and English speaking, of diverse racial and ethnocultural backgrounds to “recognize reflections of their own identity” — a way that says, “this is who we are.”
Works Cited
Anderson, B. Imagined Communities. Reflections on the Spread, of Nationalism, rev. ed. New York,
Verso,1991.
Atwood, M. Survival. Toronto: Anansi Press, 1972.
Bellah, R., R. Madsen, W. Sullivan, A. Swidler, and S Tipton. Habits of the Heart. Berkeley,
University of California Press, 1985.
Bibby R.W Mosaic Madness. Toronto: Stoddart, 1990.
Bissoondath, N Selling Illusions The Cult of Multiculturalism in Canada Toronto Penguin, 1994
Diakiw J “The school’s role m revealing the commonplaces of our national culture and
identity a multicultural perspective ” Multicultural Education The State of the Art National
Study, Report #4 Ed Keith A McLeod Winnipeg Canadian Association of Second
Language Teachers, 1996
Gates, H L Jr “Multiculturalism a conversation among different voices ” Rethinking Schools,
Oct/Nov 1991
Gellner, Ernest Nations and Nationalism Ithaca NY Comell UP, 1983
Giroux, H “Living dangerously identity politics and the new cultural racism ” Grossberg
Giroux, H “Curriculum, multiculturalism and the politics of identity ” National Association of
Secondary Principals’ Bulletin 76(548[1992]) 1-11
Ghosh, R Redefining Multicultural Education Toronto Harcourt Brace, 1996
Grossberg, L ,ed Between Borders New York, Vintage, 1993
Hackney, S “Beyond the culture wars ” Speech to the National Press Club, 1993
Hirsch.ED Jr Cultural Literacy What Every American Needs to Know New York, Vintage Books,
1987
Kimball R “Tenured radicals a postscript” The New Criterion, Jan 4-13,1991
Lipset, S M Continental Divide New York Routledge, 1990
Postman, N “Learning by story ” New Yorker, Dec 1984,119-124
Rorty,R Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature Prmceton Pnnceton UP, 1979
Trend, D “Nationalities, pedagogies and media ” Grossberg
Wnght, R Stolen Continents Toronto Penguin, 1992
Jerry Diakiw is a former superintendent of schools with the York Region Board of
Education He is currently a doctoral candidate at the Ontario Institute for Studies in
Education/Faculty of Education, University of Toronto and teaches part time at York
University in the Faculty of Education
• CCL.no 87,vol 23 3, fall automne 1997 49
“Keeping the Conversation Going”
Jerry Diakiw
2008
Soaring drop out rates, high levels of youth unemployment and disturbing levels of violence among Black students in some of our schools and neighbourhoods present problems, the level of which is unacceptable in Canadian society. Black-focused schools have been offered as one solution to this problem. It is not my intention here to argue for or against Black-focused schools. I am interested in promoting a variety of alternatives that have proven successful in other jurisdictions or countries. I hope, also, to explore the issue of unacceptably high drop out rates among Black youth in a larger context and examine the problem in a more comprehensive way.
I teach in the Faculty of Education at York University. In the context of the social justice and equity approach I take in my Models and Foundations of Education courses, I repeatedly impress upon my students that in my opinion racism is the most divisive problem we face in our democratic Canadian society. While I am convinced that no nation on the face of the earth is more egalitarian than we are in Canada, and that no nation has implemented a multicultural, multi-faith society more successfully than we have, we still have a long way to go!
While we are inclined to not believe the extent to which racism is alive and well in Canada, it is undeniably true, based on several recent studies in Toronto, that White job applicants with comparable experiences and qualifications will be consistently hired over Black candidates. There are still areas of the city where Black applicants have more difficulty renting an apartment than White applicants do. We are failing our Black Canadian citizens.
I feel strongly that racism is the greatest threat to our democratic multicultural society. If we are to rectify this problem, the most critical, feasible place to do so is in our schools. It is sad to realise, as research has shown repeatedly in several countries, that Black children believe themselves to be inferior to White students before they enter Kindergarten, and White students perceive themselves to be superior to Black students before entering the school system.
As a starting point, it is critical that anti-racist principles be integrated across the curriculum, regardless of the composition of the student body or the location of the school within the province. All students will be immersed in a multi-racial environment at some point, whether it is at the hockey arena or a regional track meet and certainly in the workplace. However, a multicultural approach although beneficial to some extent, has fundamentally been unsuccessful in combating racism, as revealed in many studies. During the Bob Rae NDP government, an antiracist Directorate was established within the Ministry of Education and curriculum was being re-written from an antiracist perspective. All of this was dismantled, sadly, following the election of the Conservative Party under Mike Harris.
While an anti-racist initiative focussed on all students in all schools is essential in order to combat racism, there is still the problem of how to address the high drop out rate of many of our Black students, as well as other ethnic groups that persistently under-perform in our schools. Walking through the campus at York University one is immediately aware that Canadian minorities are the majority on the York campus. Thousands of Black students do achieve at a high level academically, but on the other hand there are thousands of Black students who are not succeeding in our Toronto schools. There is no reason why they can not be performing and succeeding as well as the students at York University.
Black students are certainly not less intelligent than White and Asian students. White students living in poverty, equally under-perform in our schools, drop out early, are unemployed at higher rate than their middle class White peers and are involved in crime at comparable rates to poor Black students.
I may be naïve, but I feel there are no compelling reasons why Black students can not complete high school and college at comparable rates as White students, given a supportive family and an educational system committed to addressing the problem of unacceptable dropout rates among Black youth. A glimpse into other cultures where similar groups are disadvantaged by society offers insights into why Black students are not succeeding. In a region of Sweden, there is a pocket of historically Finnish citizens who are looked down upon by the Swedish population. They have a low status. The Finnish students do not perform at comparable levels to their Swedish compatriots. They are not expected to achieve well and they don’t. Yet when they immigrate to Australia along with their Swedish compatriots they perform equally to Swedish immigrants. Why is this? The Australians can’t tell the difference! They are expected to perform as well as the high status Swedish students and they do. Similarly in Japan, an ethnocultural group called the Burakumin performs poorly in Japan where they are perceived as a low status group, but they perform as well as other Japanese when they emigrate to the United States. When the social status of a group changes the educational performance also changes. Black children born into poverty, but raised by Black or White middle class families perform as well as White students.
In Canada, regrettably, whether subconsciously or overtly Black student are not expected to do well and they don’t. It is the perceived expectation of low status that has led to the concept of a Black-focused school in order to place students in an environment where they are consistently expected to do well. The Aboriginal focussed school in Winnipeg Manitoba has proven to be successful for seventeen years. This school has increased the dropout rate for Aboriginal students from 50% for the provincial norm to 70%. There is the hope, for those who are advocating the establishment of Black-focused schools in Toronto that Black students will be equally successful. It is not my intention here to argue for or against Black-focused schools. There is however a number of other approaches that would benefit Black students raised in poverty as well as all students faced with similar early disadvantages in life. I have been accused of being naïve and living in an ivory tower. There is nothing radically new about the suggestions I am making here. They are all accepted practical strategies that have proven successful elsewhere. Nor do I believe that any one of the following suggestions is a panacea any more that I think a Black-focused school is the panacea. I am simply putting together proven initiatives into a systematic package. I maintain a concerted effort is necessary at four major periods in the school life of a disadvantaged child; in the pre-kindergarten years, in grade 1, in grade 7 and in grade 11.
Certainly the biggest “bang for the buck” in my view is Head Start and other early childhood education initiatives. The impact is astounding and overwhelming. The Ypsilanti study initiated in the 1960s followed thousands of children born into poverty, half of whom were offered the Head Start program and the other not. They followed these students from their pre-school days to adulthood and concluded that for every dollar spent on Head Start society was saved eight dollars down the road. The difference in savings is truly remarkable. The dollars down the road are savings reflected in the decreased drop out rate, and hence higher employment. The savings came from a decrease in number of police, prison guards, teen-age pregnancy, judges, drug counsellors and unemployment and welfare benefits. Eight dollars saved for every dollar spent on early childhood education!
An infusion of funds to facilitate the implementation of widespread early childhood education in our most depressed low income neighbourhoods would help to ameliorate the disadvantages that children from low income homes experience. For example, the richness of the travel, literary and cultural experiences considered normal for middle class children is often missing in low-income homes.
A powerful and convincing drop out prevention program is aimed, oddly enough, at grade 1 students. The argument is made that those students who do not learn to read by the end of grade 1 are at an enormous disadvantage to their peers as they move on into grade 2 and 3. As the whole world opens up to them in print, being able to read allows students to speed ahead exponentially compared to those who can not. It is important that all students start on the same page as they enter the world of the written word. It is this gap between readers and non-readers that opens a gulf in achievement over a short span of time. By the time students hit grade 7 and 8 the writing is on the wall and one can predict future drop-outs as they struggle with their reading, particularly when confronted with the kind of reading required for comprehending “the text book”.
In 1990, my principal colleagues became convinced of the veracity of this argument and struggled to implement Reading Recovery, a very innovative, highly technical and very expensive program for all lagging grade 1 students. Two years later I released a teacher from our staffing complement in order for her to spend the year in Reading Recovery training. We then had within our own jurisdiction a teacher trainer available to train teachers to implement a widespread Reading Recovery program. York Region District School Board, with the strong support and leadership of the current Director, Bill Hogarth, now has a Reading Recovery program in every elementary school. It is my contention that this program is an enormously successful dropout prevention program.
After grade 1, the next wall that students face is at grade 7. It is at this level in particular that students are confronted by “the textbook”. Studies have shown that there is a significant jump in the level of vocabulary demands in intermediate level textbooks. There is also an overall rise in the level of academic demands placed on students and it is here that early identification of at-risk students should be made. Some schools and school boards have made this connection and have implemented remedial reading programs to counteract the gap that appears here between those who are going to sail through their high school years and those who will struggle.
It is at the grade 7 level that at-risk, disengaged students need to be identified and appropriate interventions taken. For example, in 1991, when I was Area Superintendent of 25 elementary schools and three secondary schools in Markham and Thornhill, the principals began expressing concerns over the number of struggling Black students. We agreed on a series of controversial actions to identify at-risk grade 7 and 8 Black students in Thornhill and Markham elementary schools. One teacher was pulled out of our area staffing allocation and given the sole responsibility of counselling and working with at-risk or disengaged Black students identified in conjunction with the teachers and administrators in the schools. We advertised in the York University student newspaper, inviting Black student volunteers willing to work with at-risk disengaged Black students once a week, as role models, mentors and tutors. We had a flood of applicants. Paul DeLyon, who was engaged for this project went at this responsibility with passion and enthusiasm. He worked with the parents of these at-risk students and they developed a Saturday morning Black school in 1992, perhaps our first Black-focused school where the curriculum reflected the Black experience in Canada. I contend that by identifying students at risk, beginning at the grade 7 level, and offering them intensive counselling, caring support and remedial assistance, and if possible offering them the opportunity to work and play with meaningful mentors, can significantly impact future drop out rates. York University has implemented such a program at their Westview Project as well as their Regent Project, working with students already in secondary school, but I contend that similar initiatives aimed at grade 7 and 8 students would have impressive payoffs.
In 1995, at Park Avenue Public School in Holland Landing we identified two severely at-risk grade 8 students who were bound to drop out even before the early school leaving option. The guidance counsellor placed them in a half-day co-op placement with two kindly old local craftsmen working in their workshops and the students were able to successfully complete their elementary schooling without further disruption or academic struggle. Innovative co-op work placements are an important option for disengaged or struggling grade 7 and 8 students. For so many of these at risk students a full day of school is unbearable. Finding meaningful placements for identified students in grade 7 and 8 can impact positively on their future prospects at secondary school. We need to be aggressively progressive in our efforts to achieve this kind of radical programming. It will not be easy to do but if we want our struggling Black youth to find a meaningful place in our Canadian society, this is the age level to do so. The opportunity is ripe for asking our business communities to partner with us to find appropriate placements for our at risk Black youth. We know that co-op placements often lead to employment and with Black youth unemployment so high this may also has positive employment side benefits
The final area for consideration is aimed at disengaged students currently attending high school. It is in the middle years of high school where the credit system finally catches up with lagging students. They miss a couple of credits in grade nine and another couple in grade ten, and when they start to calculate the annual rate of credit accumulation they begin to realise how many years it is going to take them to graduate, they become disillusioned and give up. A number of options to open up the structure of the high school are possible. The 24-hour High School would provide one site with intensive counselling, that combines online or correspondence courses, intensive credits or regular credits, in either day school or night school settings. A 6-year Grade 9 to 14 option would allow students to work half time or take extensive co-op programs and stretch out the time it takes to get a diploma but they would get one in a methodical planned and supportive environment. A final option is a 4-year dual diploma program. I recently presented a proposal to Seneca College to implement a 4-year dual diploma program — a high school graduation diploma and a 2-year Business Education Diploma. Disengaged students who have completed grade 10 will be eligible to attend this program at the Business Campus in Markham in conjunction with the York Region District School Board. At this point they have agreed to proceed with planning to implement this program. I would contend that this option would be of great interest to a significant number of disengaged Black students. I have elaborated on all these secondary school options in a discussion paper entitled the Postmodern High School
These then, are the alternative initiatives that address the problem of under-performing Black students in our schools. There are four barriers where the difference between the advantaged and disadvantaged youth are most marked; in the immediate pre-school years, in grade one, in grade 7 and in grade 10. I have offered some suggestions at each of these levels; early childhood education programs, Reading Recovery in grade one, alternative interventions in grade 7 and 8 and finally alternative structures and routes to graduation in our secondary schools. A combination of these initiatives could prove to be a powerful force for reducing the drop out rate among all students, but the most critical group of students that needs immediate attention in our schools is our under-performing Black youth. As Richard Rorty, the philosopher noted, “It is not so important to find the absolute truth of anything as it is to keep the conversation going”. This article will hopefully at least achieve the goal of continuing to face the problem of our under-performing youth and “keep the conversation going”.
The origins of Canadian culture and identity are tangled and knotted, but if you dig deeply, some surprising roots are revealed.
Revisionist authors as widely divergent as McGill’s Bruce Trigger (Children of Aataenisic), feminist Paula Gunn Allen (Who Is Your Mother? The Red Roots of White Feminism), and popular writers like Ronald Wright (Stolen Continents), are revealing the extent to which the genesis of our culture is grounded in native society.
We have always been led to believe that the richness of our culture is a product of the glory and achievement of Western civilization. It is humbling to realize that it is not as simple as that.
Our social safety net, our ability and reputation as mediators, conciliators and peacekeepers, and our democratic freedoms enshrined in our federal system of government are three of the many conceptions of our cultural identity that intertwine and overlap to create a whole greater than the sum of the parts.
While these are considered sophisticated products of a European heritage, it is instructive to consider that they may also be deeply rooted in native societies.
The Hurons, for example, like other Iroquoian tribes, looked after their own from the cradle to the grave in a manner that smacks of our Canadian safety net.
When Etienne Brule wintered with the Hurons on the shores of Georgian Bay in 1610, Champlain guaranteed his safety by sending a Huron chief’s son to Paris for the winter. When the young man returned and was asked what Paris was like, he explained to his disbelieving tribesmen that people in Paris begged for food on the streets. That a society allowed this to happen was incomprehensible to the Hurons.
He also described the appalling manner in which children were harnessed, spanked, and beaten publicly, and the way citizens were punished or executed in public squares in the early 1600s. To the Hurons, the Europeans were savages.
Montaigne, the French philosopher whose writings strongly influenced the struggle for liberty, justice, and equality in Europe and elsewhere, acknowledged the commentaries of other Iroquoian visitors during the colonial era, who were shocked by the gross inequities they observed between the rich and poor in Europe.
An ethnology of Iroquoian society written by Lewis Henry Morgan in 1851 was a popular treatise in Europe at the time. It outlined in some detail the workings of a matricentral society with an egalitarian distribution of goods and power, a peaceful ordering of society and the right of every member to participate in the work and benefits of the society.
Friedrich Engels reacted excitedly to this text: “This gentile constitution is wonderful! There can be no poor… All are free and equal – including women.”
Certainly Karl Marx and other socialist thinkers at the time were similarly profoundly influenced by Morgan’s ethnology. Marx’s evolving ideas of female equality and women’s liberation for example, though never achieved in practice, were fundamental to his socialist theories and can be clearly traced to the impact of his reading of Morgan’s ethnology about the role of women in Iroquois society.
How these values informed Canadian identity is evident to this day. One of our most enduring qualities is our historic ability to mediate disparate points of view. Canada’s evolution is a wonder of nation building. This immense land, with a divisive geography and a harsh climate, was united without military revolution, civil war, or a war for independence.
The skills to achieve this remarkable feat have stood us in good stead internationally. Canada has long had a reputation as a peacekeeper for the world and we perceive ourselves that way. Canada’s leadership and commitment to the United Nations, exemplified by Lester B. Pearson’s Nobel Peace Prize, and our undiminished involvement as a peacekeeping force, are evidence of our conciliatory skills honed in national building at home.
Confederation, itself, epitomizes our ability to unify a wide variety of disparate interests. We normally attribute this to the evolution of democracy and the parliamentary system, a crowning achievement of Western civilization.
But the Iroquoian Confederacy, a political organization comprised of five distinct native societies, (later six), had a profound influence on both the American and Canadian systems of government. Paula Gunn Allen reminds us that we inherited slavery and vote by male property owners from the European democracies.
At the Treaty of Lancaster in 1744, Canasatego, an Iroquois chief, spoke for the Iroquois, “We are a powerful confederacy and by your observing the same methods our forefathers have taken, you will acquire fresh strength and power.”
In the audience was a young Benjamin Franklin, later a co-author of the American constitution. He acknowledged in his writings the influence of this confederacy: “It would be a very strange thing if Six Nations of ignorant savages should be capable of forming a scheme for such a union…”
But such a union they formed. The symbol of the Iroquois Confederacy was an eagle clutching five arrows in its claw – one for each of the Iroquois nations. The symbol of American independence was an eagle clutching thirteen arrows – one for each of the thirteen colonies.
The American confederacy adopted the Iroquois system of distinct executive, legislative, and judicial branches of government and both Canada and the U.S. instituted the unique Iroquois system of three levels of government – local or municipal, state or provincial, and federal.
Through adopting this Iroquoian model Canada was able to reconcile the many conflicting and divergent regional and cultural interests and bring about and maintain a confederation that more democratically represented the Canadian people. The fusion of the federal system and the parliamentary system is a unique Canadian approach to democracy.
The roots of our identity are indeed tangled and knotted but it is reassuring to realize the extent to which the First Nations have contributed to our uniquely Canadian culture. But it is less significant to untangle all the roots to ascertain their precise origins than it is to realize they are part of an integrated whole.
First published in the Toronto Star. 1993
Currently included in an anthology entitled, Holocaust 2007
Jerry Diakiw
I was born in Toronto Ontario. I lived above a hairdressing and barber shop, the DeForest Beauty Salon run by my mother and father, an aunt and two uncles. The smell of fingerwave solution and the unique odour of a permanent wave still trigger an eruption of memories of playing in the shop. I spoke no English until I went to Duke of York public school, nor did I need to. Playing on Seaton St., I wasn’t aware that English existed. There were enough Ukrainian families on the street that it was like a tribal village or circle of tents in the desert, so oblivious were we to the surrounding population.
Our Ukrainian community was so safe that I could play on Seaton St. all day while my parents worked. If I didn’t come home for lunch it hardly mattered. I simply ate with all the other kids at the home were we happened to be playing. Warm, wizened old babas shrouded in black seemed to be everywhere.
On Sundays and feast days, the Ukrainian tribe trudged to the Holy Eucharist Ukrainian Catholic Church on King St., near the Don River. Today, thirty-five years later, when I exit the Don Valley parkway from the Richmond St. Ramp and pass over the former site of the church, I’m flooded with memories of weddings, plays, christenings and religious celebrations. I swear the smells of incense, wax and the stale odour of the basement hall are still there twenty years after the church was demolished. I sometimes still hear the priest’s deep booming voice chanting Hos podi pomelui as he swings the cadillo of smoking frankincense on a golden chain.
At eight, I survived the terrors of Saturday Ukrainian school where I was threatened with life in eternal hell if I didn’t agree to become an alter boy. I remained steadfastly opposed under relentless pressure from two large nuns. My parents were never able to get me to return to Ukrainian school after the nuns forced me to try on the alter boy robes to show me how beautiful I looked in them. They promised me a life in heaven where, as one nun said, “You can have an apple any time you want one.” I can still see her bulbous, scrubbed face framed by her white habit as she leaned close to mine and whispered this holy secret.
When I was five, I was hospitalized with a serious case of strep throat. No one understood me as I whined and complained in Ukrainian and my condition deteriorated. Frustrated, my parents whisked me out of the hospital, vowing they would never speak Ukrainian at home again. They never did, except when Ukrainian visitors came by from the old neighbourhood. I slowly became aware that not all Canadians spoke Ukrainian.
I never realized what a poor student I was until just recently. After my dad’s death, I came upon some of my old report cards from grades four and five among his documents. Report cards then contained only rank in class, one subject after another; no grades, no marks, just rank in class, and a section at the bottom to indicate the number of students in the class. I noted that there were 44 students in the class and my rank for the academic subjects read 44, 43, 38, 41. While I was never required to repeat a grade, my parents were upset when the school wanted to put me into a special program for slow learners. But it was wartime and the placement never materialized.
I’ve learned since it takes a second-language student seven to ten years to approach the level of his peers in the ability to use English. My poor reports in grade four represented my functional level after five years of learning English. By the end of grade eight, after nine years of English, my grades were sufficient to gain admission to, and eventually graduate from, Upper Canada College. Later, I completed B.A. and M.Ed. degrees from the University of Toronto.
I am amazed at how long it takes to learn and understand a language well enough to compete with one’s peers, even when one is born in Canada. The streaming of children of newly arrived immigrant groups into terminal programs or vocational programs repeats itself over and over again.
Neither my mother nor my father ever learned to read or write English. There were no newspapers or magazines in our home. I never had a story read to me nor do I recall being told any stories. Goldilocks, Winnie the Pooh and Hansel and Gretel became known to me only as an adult, and there are innumerable references to children’s literary characters that crop up in daily conversation that pass right over me.
I remember two books that came into the house. One was a tattered old book of poems by the Ukrainian patriot Taras Shevchenko. The other was a second-hand book on the diseases of the eye – a medical book my father bought for my older brother Walter. He was told to read it because he was going to be a doctor, just as I understood that I was expected to be a lawyer. I never saw anyone pick up either book. But my father constantly proclaimed the importance of education. He never went to school in the Ukraine but he was determined that his sons would make up for his lack of schooling.
My father and eleven silent partners bought a beer parlour, the Riviera Hotel on King St. near Sherbourne. Our family moved in upstairs, and my mother and father ran the hotel single-handedly. Frankly, it was a whorehouse and a hangout for the legendary Mickey McDonald gang. My father was granted a temporary three-month license on the condition that if he could clean up the prostitution and get rid of the gang, he would get a permanent license.
I watched many a fight through the banister posts, and I’ll always remember the night my father locked the Mickey McDonald gang inside the hotel until the police arrived. He stood defiantly at the door, bloodied, shouting in his thick accent, “You wouldn’t leave when I asked you; now you stay till I let you leave!” He got his permanent license.
Life started to settle down a bit. Like clockwork, my father opened the hotel doors every day at noon. The workers from the Christie Biscuit factory across the street poured in for lunchtime brews. One gentleman stood out. He wore a black homburg hat, a black overcoat, a black suit and black tie. Every day he ordered a draft beer, opened up his newspaper and read for about twenty minutes finished his beer and left. One day my father, in his broken English, said, “Sir, you look like smart man. My son is in grade eight. I want to send him to good school. The best in Canada. Can you tell me good school?”
The man didn’t like being disturbed. Abruptly, he replied, “One of the best schools in Canada is right here in Toronto. It’s called Upper Canada College.” The newspaper snapped open between them.
“Where is this school, sir?”
“On Londsale Road,” came a curt reply from behind the newspaper. My father arranged to make an application for my brother Walter to attend the school. In time, my father received a letter that Walter was not accepted.
Towards the end of June, as my father delivered the ritual draft beer, the man in the black homburg lowered his paper and said, “By the way, did you ever apply to have your son attend Upper Canada College?”
“Yes,” my father said, “but they say no.”
This piqued the gentleman’s interest and he questioned my father further. At his request, my father rummaged around in his cubbyhole of an office and produced the letter. One sentence said: “We do not feel your son would fit in well here.” The man asked my father if he would still like to send his son to Upper Canada.
“Sure, if you think it’s good school, I send!” my father replied.
He asked my father if he could keep the letter for a few days, and then he left.
About an hour later, the headmaster from Upper Canada College arrived in the men’s parlour of the Riviera Hotel to inform my father that an opening had just come up and the college would be delighted if Walter would accept the vacancy.
The man in the black homburg turned out to be a governor of Upper Canada College, who took time out from his law practice to enjoy a beer and a quiet read at lunch.
Though my father could ill afford it, we three Diakiw boys began fifteen years of roaming the hallowed halls of Upper Canada College.
What a strange quirk of fate! What a bizarre shift in cultures! My five years at the college were a combination of joy, pleasure, boredom, humiliation and anger. I reveled in the sports and other extra-curricular opportunities available there. Despite the strong loyalty I still have for the Upper Canada College, the appalling boredom and monotony of my classes hardly justified its first-rate reputation. Parents paid exorbitantly for the reputation, and students didn’t dare question the teaching staff. Yet in many ways, away from the school, I acquired status. When adults learned about the school I attended, they gave me an unwarranted elevated social status, not unlike the deference they might have show to an Oxford or Harvard graduate.
Until I entered Upper Canada College, I never realized how Ukrainian or, rather, how non-Canadian I was. Attending the college exposed the socio-cultural hierarchies to which I had been oblivious. For me, this privilege was not without its price.
Two years after graduating from Upper Canada College, I served in the Royal Canadian navy’s summer training program (UNTD) for officer cadets. I arrived at the Officers’ Mess in Montreal, shouldered my duffel bag to my assigned quarters and introduced myself to my roommate, Milton Zysman, who was stretched out on his bed reading. “What kind of name is Diakiw?” he asked.
“Ukrainian,” I said.
“Ah! Another Black man,” he boomed.
I looked at him – stunned – as lights flashed in my mind and memories tumbled and unfolded like a kaleidoscope. I had never thought of it that way, yet he had exposed a central truth about the way I felt and the experiences I had had. What did a Ukrainian and a Jew have in common with a Black man? Why did I find it so easy to identify with that statement? While the differences in experiences were vast, we had all known intolerance, prejudice and second-class status. For Milton and me, this status was confirmed by law. Our parents had immigrated to Canada at a time when the rulings under the Immigration Act of 1923 classified European immigrants as preferred (northwestern Europe), non-preferred (eastern Europe, including the Ukraine) and Special Permits Class (southern Europe and all Jews except British subjects, regardless of their nationality).
The day that I arrived at the naval base in Montreal, I no longer spoke or understood Ukrainian. I was born in Canada and I had never visited the Ukraine. I had had no association with the Ukrainian church since the age of ten. I belonged to no Ukrainian club or organization, celebrated no Ukrainian holiday or festival. I was almost not a Ukrainian at all, except that my identity was defined and affirmed for me by English Canadians. They defined the group to which they had determined I belonged, and that group was somehow inherently inferior.
I was not aware of this inferior status until I went to Upper Canada College, where I was confronted with the impenetrable wall of white Anglo-Saxon Protestantism. I don’t recall being insulted personally, apart from one French teacher. He regularly kicked and pushed me out of my seat and onto the floor while shouting how I was born out of my mother’s deep black Ukrainian swamp.
Otherwise, I was treated as an equal and fully accepted into school life. No door or opportunity was closed to me. I was accepted by my classmates as one of them. And yet I felt like an alien. The culture of the college was English public school. This tradition was so highly guarded that the school always imported an English headmaster to guarantee that these central values were maintained. (A few years after I graduated, the school appointed its first Canadian headmaster.)
In being accepted, I came to learn how my culture, my parents, my lifestyle, my past were not acceptable. I believe that I hid this knowledge well from my classmates – they just never knew. As such, they revealed their feelings and attitudes. Even today I can’t share with my close friends from those years the subtle and unconscious distinctions they communicated to me. They wouldn’t remember, or would suggest that I was overly sensitive – I’m sure they just wouldn’t understand. The distinctions were relentless: ethnic jokes, the derision about the way ethnics talked or dressed, their language about immigrants – “those bloody DPs are ruining this country” – the belittling of other cultures – “the only cultural achievement of the Ukrainians is the decorated Easter egg.” A remark about an Italian, a Jew or Hungarian painted me with the same brush. They accepted me as one of them, but when joked about ethnics, they defined me and it belittled me.
At the college, we were trained to emulate proper Englishmen. We were taught Latin and the classics. We committed to memory, during daily Church of England prayers in the chapel, such patriotic English hymns as “Jerusalem” – “Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem in England’s green and pleasant land.” I learned about Empire and about all the “pink bits” on the map. Through the Upper Canada College Cadet Battalion’s affiliation with the Queen’s Own Rifles, I learned of that regiment’s gallant history in creating, defending and protecting the Empire. Prince Philip, our royal patron, made periodic visits to the school to affirm our connection right to the top.
My classmates and I learned about power, and that power was in the hands of English Canadians; we were trained to be proper English Canadians. Many of those same classmates dominate in every corridor of power today.
This was not an environment in which I was able to talk proudly about my heritage. I retreated and assimilated as fast as I could. I was very ashamed of my background. I was particularly embarrassed about my parents. Compared with my friend’s parents, mine seemed ignorant and crude. Not one classmate ever met my parents or visited my home during the five years I attended the college. I visited in their homes but not until the end of grade thirteen did I invite any friends to mine. Only then did I begin to realize that despite the differences in culture and wealth, my parents were among the best.
To me, my mother and father were largely without prejudice. (My wife maintains that I delude myself.) But the one ethnic group that bore the brunt of slurs and castigation by my parents was that of English Canadians with English accents. My mother always felt embarrassed and humiliated in their presence. When one of us put on “airs”, acted overbearing, pompous, opinionated or domineering, they would say “Don’t act like a ‘Bronco.’” A “Bronco” was an English person, and in our house it was the most scathing insult you could make. As a youngster I never understood this hostility. But at Upper Canada College and in the years that followed, I began to understand the impertinence of “the dominant culture.”
I came to understand and sympathize with angry Jews who stereotype gentiles, with Blacks who lash out against whites, with radical feminists who demolish men. Anger and hostility often accompany reverse discrimination, the slow-brewing reaction to inequality. I remember when my older brother Walter was dating an English girl my mother warned me not to marry a “Bronco” because “whenever you have a fight she’ll throw it in your face that are not a real Canadian.” (All three of us married “Broncos.”)
How many times will I hear “Why don’t they just become Canadians?” uttered in dismay and frustration by a WASP who understands what a Canadian is. They want us to be like them.
Even a friend, who lives in Metropolitan Toronto where the majority of residents are from a non-English-speaking background, when discussing a draft of this memoir asked me, “Do you feel more Ukrainian or more Canadian?” The depth of misunderstanding revealed by this question staggers me, yet it typifies the suspicion and misunderstanding that English Canadians have of immigrants. Even my father, a Ukrainian patriot, born and raised in the Ukraine, a man who loved his heritage passionately, loved Canada foremost. He considered it an honour and privilege to be a Canadian. He would not have understood my neighbour’s question. It’s like asking someone if they are more white or more Canadian.
I still struggle to control and understand my own prejudices. Though I have few remaining traits normally associated with belonging to a cultural group, such as language, religion or customs, my pride in my Ukrainian roots runs strong and deep. I still somehow feel connected to the men and women in sheepskin coats who settled Western Canada in endless waves. I still feel a stirring in my heart when I hear Ukrainian music and the Ukrainian Cossack dance is still my kind of dance.
Originally published in the Toronto Star