Grandpa Costa and I
Let me tell you a story. In 1953, my father’s father - Grandpa Costa - came to Canada with his brothers. They took a boat from Piraeus, Athens, Greece, across the Atlantic and landed in Halifax. Then they took the train from Halifax and got off in Montreal. Why Montreal and not Toronto? They had a cousin who lived here.
When they got off the boat, all they new was how to say “Greek.” At immigration, they were lined up, processed, and then employers would come down and select which immigrants they wanted out of a police-line-up-like arrangement of able-bodied men. (Actually, Grandpa analogized it to farm animals being herded… and said it was quite demeaning in fact.)
The man who took my grandfather was a Bulgarian with a strawberry farm up in the Laurentians of Québec. Now for those of you reading who don’t understand why I mention the man’s heritage, the Bulgarians were on the side of the Germans in World War 2, had invaded my grandfather’s village of Kipia in Kavala, and at one point even rounded up all the men and boys in the village and marked them for execution (it was communist rebels in the hills that got word of the round-up which saved my grandfather and his family, but that’s another story). So, needless to say, having a Bulgarian pick you for farm labour in Laurentians was bit jarring for Grandpa.
Grandpa didn’t speak any English or French - Canada’s two official languages. But he spoke some Bulgarian (thanks to WW2), and was able to get around on the Laurentian farm and communicate somewhat with his employer. After his first month, he earned $25 (more than 3x what he came to Canada with, but still less than $1 per day). Sometime later, he had earned enough to move to Montreal and find another job. He worked in restaurants mainly, and a few years later, with the broken French and English that he had learned, Grandpa Costa opened up a corner store. He had several businesses in fact… Along with that corner store, he had a grocery store, a restaurant, and he would also cut hair (he was trained as a barber). By 1957, he had married my grandmother Rita, and she helped him at his businesses and worked as a seamstress (which she still does out of her home to this day). Not bad for a couple of immigrants who could barely speak either of Canada’s official languages.
Fast-forward a few years, my father is a successful restauranteur and is the Chief Development Officer of one of Canada’s larger restaurant franchising companies. As for myself, I’m the first in the family to get a university degree (First Class Honours B.A. in International Relations, with Distinction, and a minor in International Economics and Business), and now I’m finishing up two law degrees, one in the Civil Law, on in the Common Law at McGill.
So can someone at Immigration Canada, Minister Kenney’s office, or the PMO please explain to me what language has to do with the success of immigrants in this country? My father and I alone will pay more in taxes and take out less in benefits than some generations of “de souche families” of Canadians and Quebecers combined…
Immigrants are the economic workhorses of this country, regardless of linguistic ability. Not only do they come here, work in conditions that certain others would never even consider, but they start their own businesses, consume and save money at the same time, and even send money back “home” wherever that may be, until Canada becomes their home.
If the Conservatives are planning on “breaking through” in ethnic communities… they’re going to have to do better than this.
April 3rd, 2009 at 4:27 pm
What were you expecting from two Alberta boys with the last names Harper and Kenney? Basic knowledge about the nature of this country would quickly demonstrate how integral stories like your own family’s are to the foundations of Canada.
I am second generation Canadian and I understand the opportunity this nation has provided to my own family. My grandparents came from The Netherlands with no English and a small baby in 1955.
They came to Alberta because my great-uncle and his wife had come here two years previous.
My grandmother taught herself English with the books that her children took home in primary school. She taught herself English from her own desire not because anybody demanded it.
My grandparents were hard working people that made a life for themselves. But they gave back to this nation too. They prided themselves on being good citizens. My grandmother volunteered with youth organizations well beyond the years that her own children would have participated in such groups. They raised four children with these values.
I grew up with that legacy. My father gave more to the community of his own time and concern — and continues to give—than any person I know. His work has laid the foundations for a vigorous soccer program in a mid-sized town in Alberta. A town that previously had a sorry record in its offerings for young people.
The point I am getting at is that Canada is a nation built on civic values not ethnic or cultural or linguistic values. This was a nation that invited the world to make a life here and a nation that owes its success to the immigrants that came to here to live and fill its empty spaces.
They are the nation-builders to whom we owe our quality of life. They are the pioneers to whom we owe the rich diversity which has provided us with this fantastic country. They are the men and women who have managed to find a way for a vast diversity to find a sense of nationhood. We have our problems–it’s undeniable — but we have an enviable quality of ‘togetherness’ despite ’separateness’.
Shame on these leaders to take this position. To me this is a position that turns its back on the very basics of Canadian-ness. How far is it from simply saying “We were here first”?