I am blessed -- and cursed -- by the overabundance of cultural opportunities in Berkeley (let alone, the surrounding area). Attending readings at Cody's Bookstore is a favorite opportunity for me to hob-nob with the many famous authors who pass through this town and renown bookstore. The array of writers is overwhelming, and I need to be selective in whom I go hear. Why this writer and not another, I need to ask myself. Otherwise, I try to take in more than I can absorb.
Last night, Robert MacNeil, known to me and, I suspect to many, primarily as the broadcaster who retired after many years at PBS' NewsHour, spoke about his new book Looking for My Country: Finding Myself in America. I went to hear MacNeil because he is a Canadian who in 1997 became an American citizens after many long years in this country. It was no accident that I learned about the talk from my friend Peter (and fellow Canadian-living-in-the-US).
MacNeil spoke about his search for self-identity, specifically that part which resides in nationality. He spoke about things that I understood -- that of being an outsider/insider. I know a lot about the U.S. -- so it's easy to appear for me to pretend to be an American. Yet I come from an alternative existence, one not well-known to most people south of the border but one shared currently by 35 million people ("Canadians"). Although MacNeil came from a Canada of the 1940s and I, from a Canada of the 1980s, we share, strangely enough, enough commonalities for me to say, "hey, we're both Canadians -- maybe all Canadians share these experiences."
I've been in the U.S. for thirteen years with no immediate plans to return. I am working on getting a green card. I even surprise myself with thoughts of becoming an American one day (thoughts that are tinged with guilt and intimations of betrayal). When MacNeil spoke about being torn between being Canadian and living in the U.S., the conflict that inhabited his body of seventy years is probably going to be one that sits in my for the rest of my life. There's all that me that grew up in the north -- and though most of the time these days, Canada seems remote while I pass my days in northern California, I only have to let my guard a moment or two, stare out the window at the wrong time to be transported back to a long lost moment of purity and tranquility that I associate with childhood or Canada or fantasy. I have no desire to make my residence in the city I was born -- Timmins -- but there's something there for which I still long. I can't name it; I don't know what it is. Canada has something to do with it though, I'm sure.
(FYI and FMI, I've blogged in the past about being Canadian: when troubles come, the differences surface; remembering Canada Day through the Maple Leaf flag; Glenn Gould as an eccentric Canuck)
Posted by rdhyee at June 26, 2003 10:42 PMPeter loaned me a copy of "Looking for My Country," having driven all the way to Castro Valley to pick up an available library copy. I was charmed by Robert MacNeil, in person as well as in the book, but was sad to realize that his fame and professional stature came at the cost of his family life. What a dilemma for caring men--and now for many caring women as well. Family life is not at all easy, and must be hardest of all on a parent who is trying to do it alone, or largely alone (e.g., MacNeil's first two wives).
Posted by: =^..^= =^..^= at June 30, 2003 11:31 AM