Elastics and kaleidoscopes

Just before King’s Day in the Netherlands, and not long after the most recent No Kings protests in the U.S., I became a Canadian. So now I am a citizen of two countries and owe true allegiance, whatever that means, to two different kings. The citizenship ceremony took place in Scarborough, east Toronto. This is an area so multicultural that effectively everybody is international once they leave their close family circle, as a friendly university chaplain once told me. Canada gained 111 new citizens from 41 countries on that particular day. Many of them dressed in red and white for the occasion.

It was beautiful to see how much becoming Canadian meant to these new citizens. For me it was an important milestone as well, but my feelings were rather mixed. I felt a general sense of annoyance throughout the day, a feeling I could not fully explain to myself. It was probably due to the fact that I find Canada a troubled and complicated country. When we moved from the U.S. in 2020, there was no time for deep thinking about this country, and Canada seemed familiar enough to me based on our family visits. That may have been a mistake. The past five years have been rough.

Dutch in Canada

Over the past year, I came to realize that for me being Dutch means something different than it does to the Dutch Canadians I interact with. Besides such obvious things as language expression and city of origin, being Dutch for me also meant being European. The Europe I grew up in might well be called a kaleidoscope of local and national flavours and colours and memories and climates. It was my European experiences that led me to faith and to the (Roman) Catholic Church. Moreover, Europe trained me for communication across cultures: to anticipate and avoid possible misunderstandings based on language, to be fairly explicit in what I think or want, but indicate openness to alternatives, and never to take offence if none is intended. I treasure those lessons.

Some North Americans use the term “eurocentric” to describe a bias to be avoided. But we all need a sense of roots. My roots are in Europe, so my thinking will always have this tendency. Hopefully, being Canadian will broaden my worldview in new and unforeseen ways.

More than food

Sometimes, Canada appears as a beautifully ordered multicultural kaleidoscope. At other times, this country brings to my mind the neat elastics that wrap around the Toronto Globe and Mail or books on hold at the Toronto Public Library. A country with little cohesion and questionable life span, but a strong sense of propriety.

Canada also strikes me as far more hierarchical and competitive than the Europe of my memory or imagination ever was, with a certain class of native English speakers at the top of the pyramid – the “monkey rock,” I would say in Dutch. Canada has less cultural heritage and less institutionalized solidarity than Western Europe, and an unhealthy penchant to look to the States for leadership or affirmation. Sometimes, even Canadian multiculturalism seems more a suggestion based on tasty foods than a lived reality.

Retreat to the Netherlands is no alternative, however. Although some admirable Dutch people are fighting good fights, the Netherlands are becoming more xenophobic, oligarchic, delusional and isolationist. Might these two countries, each among the best in the world, help each other to recover their strengths and sense of purpose? I believe so, but it will take a kaleidoscopic vision (or two) and some good guidance from the eternal King and Shepherd to get us there.