Living abroad a lesson in appreciating Canadian values
During a busy morning commute on the Paris metro, I became the most annoying passenger on the platform when I inadvertently stopped the flow of traffic to gaze at a poster promoting the FIFA Women’s World Cup.
The poster was promoting the tournament’s opening match in Paris between France and South Korea.
Maybe it’s because I had just attended my French citizenship ceremony, where I sang the French anthem and pledged allegiance to the triptych of French values — liberté, égalité and fraternité — that I was thrown for a loop. That my eyes were riveted on the French and Korean flags on the poster and I couldn’t unstick my feet.
Because seeing the ad suddenly forced me to confront an important question: As a dual French-Canadian citizen of Korean descent, who would I cheer for? Moreover, if ever there were a major sporting event in which Canada, South Korea and France were pitted against each other, where would my allegiances lie? Which country would I betray?
I began to wonder if other dual citizens share the same dilemma. In 2011, the latest figures available from Statistics Canada, 944,700 Canadians had multiple citizenships, mostly from the U.S., the U.K., France and Poland.
But I’m not just French-Canadian. I am a Korean-Canadian person of colour who has cast a third layer of complication onto her hyphenated identity.
It’s a hazard of obtaining dual citizenship late in life, I suppose.
At the age of 42, I have been struck with sudden onset identity crisis, and find myself reliving uncomfortable, troubling memories of teenage angst, torn between feelings of pride and guilt.
Pride because I worked hard to build a life in Paris, where I am a food and travel writer, and obtain citizenship. Guilt because, for my citizenship test, I studied French geography, history and politics, but could tell you little beyond the basics about the politics and history of my Korean heritage.
Meanwhile, being an English-speaking Korean from Canada has given me a unique perspective on life in France, which at times has also set me up for bitter disappointment.
This spring, a trendy restaurant, Dépôt Légal, named one of its menu items “Tching Tchong salad.” The story went viral, forcing chef Christophe Adam (who incidentally has pastry shops in Japan and China) to issue an apology. But the fact that “Tching Tchong” made it from the brainstorming stage to the printed menu without being flagged as potentially offensive says volumes about how normalized racism can be here. After growing up in Canada, it is one of the most difficult and frustrating aspects of living here.
The level of discourse on racism in France can be shockingly primitive.
After reading the scores of online comments that defended the restaurant and called its critics overly sensitive and politically correct, I could sit back no longer and uncharacteristically threw myself into heated online battles, trying to school the French on why this was unacceptable.
I left battle-scarred and exhausted.
Fast-forward a few months to the Raptors winning the NBA championship, and I’m reminded of everything I love about home. Of the spirit of inclusion in Toronto. Of the level playing field that spirit of inclusion offers to people of colour in Canada.
I’m well aware racism exists in Canada. That it’s no utopia and we have our problems, be it racial profiling, urban segregation or the racialized wage gap. But as many expats can attest, it’s only when you move abroad that you understand how Canada, and Toronto in particular, boasts a pretty high bar in overall civility to begin with.
I hear it all the time from French and international expats who have visited Canada. “My God, Canadians are so nice.” “It’s true what they say — Canadians are so friendly.”
For the record, France cruised to an easy win in the soccer game, thrashing South Korea 4-0. Knowing little about soccer, the benefit of hindsight tells me the fair thing to do would have been to root for South Korea, the underdog.
As the NBA Finals underdog, that’s also what made the Raptors victory all the more triumphant, isn’t it?
So if ever you see a small Korean woman at a hockey game between Canada and France or South Korea, ignore the fact that she’s rooting for the other side. Beneath the surface, her heart may be bleeding red and white.