I am blessed to belong to a wonderful tribe.
There are five of us and these magnificent soul are the reason for absolutely everything. They are the centre of my life, the epicentre of all that is good and meaningful. There is something so authentic about family life. It provides a reason to live, not just a shelter to merely survive.
Belonging to a country, well that is a whole other matter.
I was born in Poland and had it not been for the evil of socialism, I would not have made any footprints in Canada. You would not be reading this. I would have lived a different life.
1985 changed everything.
My thoughts tell me that I am Canadian. So does my citizenship card. It would be irrational for me to deny my residence or to think otherwise. In my heart however, I don’t belong anywhere.
I guess I just don’t embrace Nationalism.
As an outsider, I have no desire to stake my claim and I hope my children don’t want to stake a claim either.
I have been told many times since I arrived that I just don’t belong here, that I have a weird name with too many consonants. I should really change it or think of a new one because it is not good to start any type of enterprise. No one will find you. They will forget you or worse, simply ignore you.
Don’t forget that you will always have to ask for permission, just like a child, because your family didn’t contribute enough or build any of this. Your dad picked up garbage. You are easily replaceable.
And don’t forget, you speak with a slight but a noticeable eastern European accent.
I have no desire for pity. It is a waste of time.
I don’t cry very often but when I do, I cry for others. Other immigrants have had a far more horrifying experience. No one has attacked or killed me in my place of worship, told me I smell, or commented that my ethnic food is disgusting. No one has punched me, or refused to serve me. No one tore up my resume because I am the wrong kind of person.
What is strange is that I don’t belong to Poland either.
A few years ago I went back to the country I love, because I longed to reconnect. It was a wonderful experience, but it didn’t feel like home. I met the most generous people. I ate dishes I had not tasted in a long time. I understood Poland’s history and a culture at such depths because before, I simply too young to absorb it.
Despite it all, I felt like an outsider.
It’s funny. You’ll laugh when I tell you that I was told several times that I spoke with a funny accent.
I belong to my tribe now. I will remain loyal and true.
Wherever they go, so may my footsteps follow.
