Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Ways to Fail at Combating Homesickness - The Fourth of July

So being a Canadian living in the United States of America kinda sucks.

It's not like I didn't already know what I was getting into when I moved here. I grew up ten miles from the border, we have more American channels than Canadian channels, and all the Americans would come to our bars because the legal drinking age in Canada is nineteen. All our temple trips were to the Seattle temple, and I served a mission in Michigan, thus spending enough time in the States to know what it's like to live in the States.

I'm really proud of being a Canadian. I have lived here for seventeen years and have yet to become a U.S. Citizen because of the whole "denounce any allegiance to any other country". Sorry, can't give up my Canadianness. I don't sing the U.S. national anthem, and except when I'm leading it in my role as Cubmaster, I don't say the Pledge of Allegiance. The U.S. is not my country and I don't pledge allegiance to its flag.

This is a source of contention with my husband and my boys. I just can't get over my pride that I am not an American, but a CANADIAN. I absolutely love being Canadian and won't give it up for anything. (being Canadian is that awesome)

Like I said, I knew what I was getting into; Americans are totally patriotic - garishly so. This time of year, the Stars and Stripes are brought out with even more vigor. There's the singing of patriotic songs in church that I do not do, standing for the national anthem, waving flags, fireworks for days, etc. I used to not care; when I was growing up we would have our Canada Day fireworks on July 1, then go to the beach on the Fourth to watch the Americans shoot off theirs. Theirs were always so much better, longer, and louder than ours.

Now that I've been away for so long, and Facebook has allowed me to see all my friends from my past celebrating Canada Day and waving their maple leafs all over the place, I really miss Canada Day.

All I'm left with is the Fourth. The Fourth used to be fun; who can say no to BBQ, potato salad, fireworks, and apple pie? I've realized that I could tolerate the Fourth only because it was combined with the First.


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