About Immigrants

I’ve been working on two novels about the Canadian immigrant experience and volunteering with newcomers helps me stay in touch with the current crisis. 

A long journey war-torn Europe to a train station
in Winnipeg, July, 1953

Spending time with Ukrainian immigrants helps me appreciate the human cost of the Putin’s invasion—but barely. It’s not my home town that stands empty and destroyed. It’s not my family back there still trying to eke out a living. It’s not my cousin wounded or missing on the front line. It’s not my life on hold. It’s not my diploma that's no longer valid or my language skills that are suddenly useless. As the mayhem of violence continues on the disputed borders with Russia, immigrants here in Canada start all over again, like high school students. 

The Ukrainian women I’ve been fortunate to coach have such beautiful names and faces. They’re so determined, so resilient, so positive-minded. Maybe they had management positions in Ukraine, here they’re grateful to clear tables, make beds or labour in sewing factories … while their children make friends, become fluent in English and grow without fear.

Immigrant ship, the Beaverbrae

I can’t help but think of my parents. Immigrants to Canada after the Second World War, my mother had no home to return to while my father lost his first wife and two young sons. Canada took them in and gave them a safe place to raise a family. 

My father could fix or build anything and he flourished in various construction related jobs while my mom ended up in a potato chip factory with other displaced people.  Neither job required English skills.

Canada's many challenges include climate change, housing and support for diverse populations. Also, we’ve only recently recognized the indigenous peoples who were manipulated and abused by European invaders. That healing will take time.

Yes, we’re all from somewhere else, but we all want the same things ...  fresh air, a safe home and a welcoming community.

Doing our Best

Throughout the pandemic, my personal disruptions have been mere irritants. I’ve not lost my job, I’ve not had delayed medical procedures, and I’ve not cancelled travel plans. I’m old enough to be retired, lucky enough to be healthy and grateful to be able to satisfy my need for novelty with local trips. I’ve also been able to meet new and interesting people via the internet. 

Canada's Human Rights Museum, Winnipeg

As an EAL volunteer with a local immigrant centre, I’ve learned about faraway places. Mostly, I’ve learned that people are people, no matter what their home language might be or the nature of their government. Through them I get a human view of current affairs, but it also helps me appreciate history. Just as cultural and political environments shape a person today, so it shaped the people of the past. As someone who’s often immersed in the past, it’s empowering to recognize the humanity of us all. Whether Chinese or Ukrainian, living in a fascist country or a democracy, we all have the same range of emotions, basic needs and desires.

The opportunities that this pandemic, through the magic of modern technology, has given me to connect one-on-one with newcomers to Canada makes me again appreciate the choice my own parents made back in the fifties. Engaging with current immigrants, whom I admire for their courage and their hope, reminds to never be complacent about the opportunities in this country. 

Imagine living in China where the work motto is ‘996’. That’s shorthand for working from nine until nine, six days a week. Imagine living in Ukraine where in some towns, it's cheaper to get a fake vaccination certificate than an actual shot . . . a country where no one trusts that what the doctor injects in you is in fact a vaccine and not some random liquid. Imagine living in Russia where my new release, Tainted Amber, would be banned because it depicts Nazi youth on the cover and might distort Russia’s determination to revise the Stalin years. A new piece of legislation,  Federal Law No. 280-FZ , was enacted in Russia back in July which forces bookstores to pull offending materials.

I know that Canada has problems. Lots of problems. But we’re trying. Aren’t we?