My Multicultural Canada
For one newly arrived educator and mother, slowly peeling away the layers of differences revealed to all our true unity in diversity
When I first came to Canada from New Delhi, India, in 1997 and started a teaching job in Toronto, I searched for Pierre Trudeau’s vision of multiculturalism. The former prime minister was a popular figure in India, known for his visionary ways and welcoming policies. I found this multiculturalism in my highschool class of 30 students and 15 nationalities. With Caucasians, Muslims, Arabs, Hindus, Japanese, Chinese, Filipinos,
Sri Lankans, East Europeans, Italians, Africans and more, it became culture before curriculum, a Discovery Channel of diversity!
An educator, writer, poet and parent, I had left behind a warm family and lucrative education career in India to explore opportunities for my daughter, Diya, who was dealing with fibrous dysplasia, a growth on her optic nerve that had blinded her in one eye. Previous surgery had resulted in ptosis (drooping) of her left eye. Having sought solutions the world over, I had a chance meeting at a bookstore in New Delhi with a Canadian High Commissioner’s wife, who told me about the health services in Canada. I was on a crusade to find a cure, destigmatize a disability and provide Diya an opportunity in a land of equity. My daughter joined me in Canada after three months, as did my son, Manik—although he later left to pursue educational and work opportunities in Australia and the USA.
But back in class, I focused on this new multiculturalism. Lessons were not just curriculum delivery, but getting to know cultures. I made space for conversations; this made learning fun. For instance, when I told my students my name, two Spanish girls from the back of the class gleefully said: “Bad girl.” “Is that what ‘Mala’ means in Spanish?” I asked. “Yes,” they said. I told them the Sanskrit and Hindi meaning of my name was “rosary and necklace.” They laughed.
Unity in Diversity
Each student brought a piece of their country to the jigsaw puzzle called Canada. We all began to share our native-language greetings. So many faces of humanity! So much to learn from each other! Soon, pockets of dierent cultures were formed, creating spaces to connect with countries left behind and adapt to the nuances of a new language and life in Canada. But together in class, students spoke their languages and shared stories of immigration, with respect.
I was amazed by my students, including Subah, who had immigrated to Canada to get away from Saddam Hussein. Her poignant story of how she saw “noncompliant” women’s nails pulled o sent shivers down my spine. Canada provided a space where she could reveal these atrocities, her struggles and her escape without fear. How far she had come, too. I remember seeing her, in her hijab and smoking, while I was waiting at a red light. I understood how she wanted to feel her freedom—to blow away her fears and restrictions. Because I did not sit in judgment, mutual trust was established and she slowly began confiding in me, opening up in class and informal conversations.
Practising democracy in education, I let the students chart their own paths once I introduced the lesson. As the school year rolled by and more exchanges between cultures took place, the class became more integrated. Pronunciations of names could be fun tongue twisters; sharing food was an interesting discovery and space for integration.
Overcoming Hurdles
But being in a new land also presented struggles. Some students’ parents were paranoid of how Western culture was aecting their Eastern values. And personal struggles existed, too: One time, Diya and I were returning from visiting my aged parents in India when, with no prior notification, we received an email that we were being moved out of our house in Toronto. Though caught between two continents and two cultures, we were determined not to let this hiccup pull us down.
Even workplaces and friendships could be dicult to manoeuvre across cultural divides. One woman once told me about a remark she heard from the family she was staying with: “Please speak to them in English so we know what you are talking about.” Another time, a job interviewer asked my South Asian friend, “Do you sin?” The Czech interviewer saw her puzzled look and said, “I meant: Do you have a social insurance number, a SIN?” Fresh o the boat, she had not known the acronym. Both burst into laughter and she was hired.
The slings and arrows of multiculturalism are many, and each immigrant has a story. Success in a foreign land, in my experience, depends upon understanding and accepting “the other” from one’s own cultural perspective, thus breaking barriers. As time goes by, the human beneath the mask emerges, revealing the connection and interaction of human values, human nature and human expectations. In today’s reality, biological families have taken a back seat while hybrid families—such as those created in my classrooms—have emerged. There is no success nor failure in this experience. One simply has to embrace uncertainty with faith.
I may have arrived in Canada alone those many years ago, but alone was not lonely. It was cast in faith and motivation.
I still teach secondary school occasionally, but I have moved on to other fields in education and culture. I still see the future of civilization in my students’ eyes as I hope to continue building bridges and breaking barriers. For Diya, coming to Canada has been a rebirth. She has aspired to fit in academically, socially, culturally and more. She went on to complete a degree at the University of Toronto and find her true voice; I am so grateful to Canada for aording her this opportunity.
“Diya” means “light,” and I hope the light of Diya’s resilience and survival inspires those treading the same mushy ground in life. Because our dierences do not melt into indierence: they steer the rainbow into the sky of achievement, with radiant colours for all to see and enjoy!