Where Do I Fit In? Finding an Identity Above and Below the 49th Parallel. by Karen Landmann Both the U.S. and Canada are immigrant societies. Despite the many problems we encounter as such, we are part of an experiment in bringing together people from all nations of the world. But what comes to mind when we think of the word "immigrant"? For Americans, stereotypical images of Ellis Island, Founding Fathers and the Mayflower spring into consciousness. For Canadians, a sentimental idea of an open country might emerge. Though these are but fabled representations loosely based in reality and not inclusive of present issues, they are nonetheless compelling. While the American notion of a melting pot is currently being challenged, the myth still reflects reality to some degree. Both the U.S. and Canada have visitors, residents, and citizens who came from another country. In fact, only he American Indian can claim actual title to the land. In Canada, native land claims are beginning to be honored, after centuries of oppression. The immigrant story is a fascinating experience, and one in which we all share, either directly through our own experience as immigrants or refugees, or in family history as economic pilgrims, asylum seekers, or slaves. While Native people do not share in this history in the same way, they have been affected by generations of immigrants and it could be argued that millennia ago they too were immigrants as they crossed the ice bridge. In the most modern, concrete sense, I am an immigrant. A Canadian citizen living in New York. I was born and raised in Toronto, Ontario. I have white skin, rough textured very curly hair, and some African features. Although not Jewish by birth, I was raised in a Jewish family with Holocaust history. Some immigrants are clearly visible through their language, dress, and mannerisms. Since Canada is so similar to the U.S., this is not the case with me. Although there are many similarities, my moving here parallels the classic immigrant experience. I both love and hate my host country, and over time I have settled and become more adapted. My loyalties vary with time, circumstance, and mood, as does my comfort level. As I feel rooted, I understand U.S. culture on a deeper level. This is turn brings a new culture of adaptation and discomfort. Culture and family are certainly factors here as well; my family, despite its refugee past, encourages travel and does not keep to home. This has helped me adapt and become more at ease in new surroundings. However, as a foreigner here, I notice many differences from my country of birth. In many ways, the U.S. has now become my home. However, although I look, dress, and act like an American, I know I am not. Usually, I am assumed to be an "insider"; only occasionally does a subtlety in my accent, manner of speaking, or use of language betray my nationality. This has advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, I can blend in or "pass" when I need to. On the other, large issues of where I fit in are brought up. I know I am different but others do not always realize this fact unless I "come out" as Canadian. I am thought to be an insider, yet sometimes I feel that I don't belong. As I was returning home from a hike with an outdoor club, a conversation ensued about my education. I remarked that I was planning to further my education. A student from China replied: "You will have no difficulty with funding. Americans can get loans with very low interest rates. It's just the foreign students who have a problem." He was clearly surprised when I revealed to him that I was a foreigner too, and a lively discussion about our respective visas ensued. In this case, I had more in common with the foreign student than he imagined; once he knew I was "one of [them]", his attitude toward me changed. I notice this stance as well when I find myself fitting in with other immigrants, part of the network formed by foreigners. In another instance, when I revealed at a party my country of origin, a newly arrived Canadian stated "You've been here for five years and you still admit you're Canadian? I have heard stories of Canadians trying to pass and never admitting where they are from, especially if they've been here for awhile". It is this sense of finding a place that occupies me most. In general, we try to identify "with" or "as". Part of our "politically correct" language, these phrases serve to accentuate our differences, speaking the truth that we are not monolithic. They promote group unity and cohesion. But what happens if we don't identify "with" or "as"? The so-called "whites" of today's society are grappling with this question, as are immigrants and those of bi- or multiracial, linguistic, religious, or ethnic backgrounds. In the last century, this was framed in different terms: German, Jewish, and Irish immigrants as well as Native Americans, former slaves, and their descendants were the "others". On the one hand, identifying "with" or "as" promotes awareness and understanding of difference for both the group in question and the outside world. However, it could be seen as exclusionary as well as confusing to those who identify with more than one group. This concept applies to immigrant status, but it also relates to another layer of identity: ethnicity, race and culture. These concepts are reflected differently in the U.S. and Canada, with misperceptions of the other on both sides. The U.S. tends to focus on the black/white schism, while Canada's stance is of the cultural mosaic: two founding peoples, French and English, and immigrants from around the globe. These differences cannot be simplified because of the complexity of differing histories, immigration patterns, and politics. This point is illustrated in the following example. An Asian-Canadian I know said "In Canada, we have the concept of "visible minority". Here it is different. We have black and white. When I came here I thought of myself as a visible minority. But now I realize that for the purpose of this discussion, I'm basically white". And it is true that the U.S. categorizes differently than Canada. Many of the studies and articles that I read in my field of social work have Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, and possibly Other as the cultural/racial categories. This is usually set up very differently in Canada. Often there are a great many choices reflecting cultural, national, ethnic, religious, and racial factors. Some of the American studies research only White and Non-white. Such divisions obscure the experience of those with more complex backgrounds, such as another friend of mine who is Ismaili Muslim of East Indian background. She was born in Kenya but grew up in Canada. Identifying strongly as Canadian, she is also very much in touch with her cultural heritage, complex in itself. Progressive Americans are seeking to abolish these categories, as they do not reflect reality, nor do they address subtleties of cultural difference. As we progress further in the 21st century, the proportion of so-called "minorities" is expected to begin to overtake the "white" population. Hopefully, these differences will become less pronounced, although regional variations may take precedence. I have a hard time knowing where I fit in. In this area as well I am searching for a place. My experience of coming to terms with cultural identity also parallels my immigrant experience. Interestingly enough, out of all my siblings, I identify most with my father's Jewishness, although I am the only one who was adopted. I exhibit this Jewishness differently, depending on which country I am in, and my evolution has progressed in different stages in both the U.S. and Canada. Jews are different in each place; my attitudes reflect both. The very process of accepting Judaism, in fact, has been one of including and excluding, of finding both difference and sameness. Identifying with my Jewish roots has been a long process, partly due to my family's forced exile from their homeland, Germany, and their subsequent struggle to emigrate, first unsuccessfully to New York, later settling in Toronto. Americans are not always aware of the ways in which U.S. policy was extremely restrictive at the time; conversely, Canadians often do not realize that earlier in the war, American immigration policy was comparatively generous. Because of these realities, in some aspects I am uncomfortable in both societies, because I have perspective that encompasses both but is congruent with neither. In addition, walking on the street is different in New York City and Toronto, and this has shaped my cultural identity as well. In New York, I am frequently spoken to in Spanish, assumed to be Latina before they hear my last name and I can blend in in most Spanish neighborhoods. Nor do I have any problem in Harlem or most African-American areas. I am assumed light-skinned or biracial. My experience living in Mexico and my cultural mix mean that in some ways I am an insider in these places, so that I identify with and as, although I am evidently not from that neighborhood. I also see myself as different, because that is only one aspect of my identity. These issues are highlighted when I go somewhere where I clearly am not a member, such as Chinatown. I have a similar experience when I go to a country with which I don't identify at all, such as Sweden or Russia. I am interested in Chinese culture and have a great love and respect for it. But there I am clearly an outsider, not Chinese. When in Sweden or Russia, while I may speak the language and enjoy the culture, I am clearly different. This situation is easier to negotiate in some respects. I know my place. Although I may bond with the people through my interest and love for the culture, the roles are less nebulous, for I am clearly identifying as affiliated, but other. This interplay, this dialectic of same and other has been playing itself out for much of my life, but most acutely during the time I have lived in New York. It seems all paths lead through this question, and it ties in with many other issues. It is my experience. While I own it, I also see that it is relevant to many other people, with variations in specifics, circumstance, and emphasis. The questions of how one fits in, how one forms identity, and how one adapts to our rapidly changing world are universal. It is the way in which we approach the issue that is different and that is the most fascinating. by Karen Landmann Karen Landmann is a pediatric oncology social worker in New York City. She received her B.A. in Liberal Arts from St. John's College in Annapolis, MD, and her Masters in Social Work from Columbia University. Born in Canada, Karen's fascination with other cultures began at age six when she lived with her family for a year in Guanajuato, Mexico. Russia, Surinam, and Sweden are other places she has resided; her travel experiences span four continents. Karen's work with culturally diverse clients is facilitated by her knowledge of twelve languages. When she is not writing or practicing social work, Karen is an avid photographer. © 2000 Studio Q Int'l Inc./Urban Mozaik Magazine™ All rights reserved. The images and text on this website cannot be reproduced in part or in whole without written permission from Urban Mozaik Magazine.
		I both love and hate my host country, and over time I have settled and become more adapted. My loyalties vary with time, circumstance, and mood, as does my comfort level.
		An Asian-Canadian I know said "In Canada, we have the concept of "visible minority". Here it is different. We have black and white. When I came here I thought of myself as a visible minority. But now I realize that for the purpose of this discussion, I'm basically white".
		In New York, I am frequently spoken to in Spanish, assumed to be Latina before they hear my last name and I can blend in in most Spanish neighborhoods. Nor do I have any problem in Harlem or most African-American areas. I am assumed light-skinned or biracial.