Every once in a while, usually when I am at work and taking a moment to gaze out the two walls of windows in my first floor corner office (not bragging, just situating the moment), the reality of my current existence will strike me. I never imagined so many things would be my reality: that I would be living and working in the United States, that I would be engaged to marry a citizen of this country, that I would love being a citizen of Chicago so much.
I’ve never imagined this reality because I’ve spent so much time on my perch in Canada watching events like the attacks of Sept.11, 2001 unfold from a distance, and then critizing this country when I didn’t agree with its politics on one hand and admiring it when I found personal heros amongst its citizens. And let’s not forget all the great deals I’ve unearthed on cross-border shopping trips and the memorable family vacations I’ve had here.
But now I live here. The taxes that come out of my paycheque go to the American government, the money I spend supports the economy of Chicago, Illinois, and the United States, first and foremost. So even though I watched Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath unfold while visiting Toronto last week, my perch has changed.
Now that I live here, I must admit, my love-hate relationship with America has only intensified. Hate, however, feels like the wrong word; it’s unfortunately the word that goes hand-in-hand with that expression. I may still rant about how things are in America, but because I have found so much love here — so much to love and so much that reflects that love right back at me — hate feels like a betrayal of that love. Maybe it’s more like disappoinment, confusion, doubt… All I know for certain is that it is much more intense than whatever I felt from that perch in Canada.
Right now, I don’t feel love or hate. I just feel grim since Hurricane Katrina hit the south. I feel uncertain about what will become of this country. And let’s face it, it is a great country, despite its faults and despite how sometimes it may make my blood boil. I won’t list all the things that I think make America great. That’s for each person to discover, if they care to, just as we spend time discovering what makes other nations and their citizens great people, worth our compassion, worth a helping hand, worth a friendly smile. Hating America, hating any country and its citizens, serves no purpose but to displace love from the hater.
I don’t deny I will be ranting soon enough about something W says or does in the remainder of his term. But instead of wasting my time hating him and the American government, I will spend time finding out more things that make America a great land. And I will do the same with Canada from my perch here in Chicago and then when I am living in Toronto again. I will do this so when my children question their Canadian mother and American father about America and Canada, we can share with them what we’ve witnessed and what we know, and they can then decide what is great and what needs their skills and contributions to make better and great again.
