Canadian Potluck
"A Melting Pot or a Potluck?"
When I was a kid, the notion that the USA was a "melting pot" was used to contrast it with the Canadian model of multiculturalism. However, the idea of a melting pot, where different cultures blend into one homogeneous entity, is not what we are. We are more like a potluck, where every subculture of our national identity brings something different to the table, with each dish contributing to our collective well-being.
Canada as a Potluck
Think of us as a buffet or a smorgasbord, a tasty peacekeeping meal. We enjoy sharing, trusting, and exploring different cuisines from around the world. We sit down and eat with our neighbors, listening to their stories. While we may not have one specific, fixed culture, we're sure that we trust each other enough to share a meal and talk about who we are. For us, culture is a framework for celebration, not a rigid set of rules. We know that our culture is always in flux.
However, does this "potluck" metaphor still work if you consider who "owns the table"? Yes. Even if Canada is predominantly English-speaking, the earliest settlers carved out their homes against the landscape. As I learned in Early Canadian English Literature, a core part of the Canadian identity is an anxiety over who we are. This anxiety about cultural identity is a collective experience. It's a potluck where we celebrate every person's cultural story, all while feeling a little uncertain about our own.
This uncertainty applies not only to early settlers but to all of Canada's blended cultures. We're a little bit of this and a little bit of that. We're not absolutely positive about who we are, but we are absolutely positive that we are unsure!
This makes us seem funny, shy, and polite. If you feel this way—a little nervous about your identity, but desirous of peace and love the place where you live—then we'll get along. Come on over and have dinner.
The Nanaimo Bar and Other Cultural Dishes
This isn't to say that we don't like Americans. Canadians like everyone. After all, they're like our big brother, punching us in the nose. Consider the history of the beloved Nanaimo bar: Americans claim it as their own, calling it a "New York Slice." But we refuse to accept this theory; it tastes too good. They would do better to call it a Nanaimo bar, as we all know that foreign names imply travel and cultural cachet. For example, consider how much tastier "New York Fries" sounds, even though it's a Canadian chain.
But Canada isn't just Boston Pizza; it's also Vietnamese shakes, ginger beef, sweet and sour chicken balls, and Newfoundland chow mein, to name a few. More dishes are added every day.
Cultural identity can be considered digestible until it reaches the level of nationalism. As long as nationalism is tied to the values and policies that affect your day-to-day life, you need to care about peace, at least in the place where you live.
So what does this have to do with digesting cultural identity? By modeling your cultural identity after a potluck, where you are what you eat for twelve to twenty-four hours, you no longer need the pressure of labeling yourself as a specific ethnicity. People are collections of actions. Identity isn't fixed; it's in flux. It means we aren't all that different after all and that we can laugh about the ways we are, and the ways we are different and listen to each other. And appreciate the differences.
In Canada, culture is a framework for celebration not the identity of a person because we're a potluck. Each person is unique and valuable. So go eat with someone different to you and listen to their story. Build trust with that person by sharing a meal.
