This is based on an English course I took this summer; Contemporary Canadian Fiction. |
Back to my hour-a-day exercise regime I take the country road today Passing boring suburbia on my way there Every time I walk around my model home neighbourhood Or any other neighbourhood in Canada I smile, seeing all the different types of people Different cultures, different beliefs Brown, white, Jewish, Sikh Aboriginals with new-found land A gay couple holding hands Or even kissing on the grass At the Toronto Harbourfront I love to be proud, nationalist O Canada We are the country the immigrants chose People of every colour, creed, culture Feel safe here, accepted Tolerated As I paddled the canoe around my tiny hometown lake with dad He said "I wonder how many people at the beach today are thinking to themselves, 'God, I'm glad I don't have to worry about the land mines anymore.'" Maybe other countries like the States are ignorant, but at least we are intelligent and compassionate But are we? Is it all a lie, this multiculturalism? Multideceptionalism Bone-chilling stares Forgotten tips on meals, taxi fares Doctor becomes garbage man Natives uprooted from their land Bullies in schools, attacks from rapists Every muslim labeled a terrorist Mexicans forced to work double-shifts In third-world-style factories, forced thrift Or more simple hurts like Going to the movies and seeing close-ups of the same whitewashed faces Minorities in the margins, never the spotlight The albino is always the villain Black-eyed battered women ignored by the police It's just a cultural issue, not provincial Slurs, words that hurt more than they should Whispers of the Holocaust become full-throated shouts The black version of Holocaust could be happening right now But none of us would know it What lies beneath the surface? Behind the eyes of every person who is not Christian, white, conservative, male, first-class, successful, born here I can read fifty books by marginalized Canadians I can stop every person on the street and ask them how it feels to live here But I'll never really know My life is so sheltered I've never been anywhere other than Canada, the U.S., England, Holland What lies beyond? How can my story be half as interesting as theirs? I've never experienced what they have And I can't make assumptions But here is one thing I have felt Alone More awake at night than during the day A vampire amongst sparrows Incapable of getting a decent job Or even a shoddy one these days Brothers on a different wavelength Chester with his own friends, drifting away from us And Leo working on his novel, anxious to leave home Daddy resigned, lost, dead inside My addiction to sleep and sloth is not welcome here in my own home But where would I be welcome? I could move out and live with my university peers But I'm too shy to move past acquaintance I've never had a really good friend Maybe I'm not black, or gay, or disabled, or transgendered But whenever I go for a walk I feel Disconnected Alone Smiling face as I walk by But it is a mask A lie Multideceptionalism |