The Truth About Immigrants & Refugees!

In case you are wondering…I am a Canadian but born to immigrants. If you think immigrants and refugees are to blame for the ills of the world, I suggest you find a different blog to read.  Yes, I was born in Toronto 50 years ago but my Parents came here from Berlin Germany…as immigrants.

The recent events south of the border with the newly elected administration that thrives on #AlternativeFacts is sobering. Now with the horrific shooting at a Mosque in Quebec, I am reminded of the ever present undercurrent of ignorance, racism and just plain old fashioned hate that is present in our society. This negative undercurrent has been encouraged and is rapidly being “normalized” making it more important than ever for the rest of us to speak our truth. I have grown tired of the internet trolls and alt right political activists inciting hate toward the most vulnerable in our world, refugees of war and immigrants. It’s time to share the truth about what these people have contributed to this country…and it’s not terrorism.  It’s also not bloated welfare rolls or burdens on the Employment Insurance system…despite what some viral emails and Facebook posts may proclaim.

I was at a funeral last week for a good man, he was a business owner, a tradesmen, a father, husband, grandfather, uncle or to some of us an “Onkel” and a very proud Canadian. BTW he was also an immigrant.  During the eulogy his daughter mentioned his arrival in Canada in the 1950’s and his intention of living the “Canadian experience”.  And for the next 60+ years he did just that. I was lucky enough to know this man; he was a big part of my youth.  He was my Dad’s oldest and best friend and his neighbour for many of those 60 years.

They shared much in common, they married strong German women. They both had immigrated from a war torn Germany, had seen far more human cruelty and horror than any young person should endure. Both came to this country to leave behind the horror and wreckage of war, to start again in a new land that promised opportunity and freedom.  

As many may know Berlin was bombed heavily by the allies. My mother as a youngster was evacuated from Berlin to be sheltered from the bombing; my great grandmother was detained by the Nazis for refusing to say Heil Hitler on the streets of Berlin.  My Father was just 16 as the war came to end and had just received his draft papers in the mail. My Grandfather put them back in the mailbox with “addressee unknown” to buy some time. He had already lost one son to the war.  My father had already been captured by the Russian army as a civilian and had escaped while being sent to Russia. He doesn’t like talking about this time, but has shared some bone chilling memories of hiding from Russian soldiers and watching while they torched a town, and witnessed many other atrocities of an invading army. Sights no 15 year old should see.

My father’s parents were from East Berlin, the Russian controlled post war sector that would be eventually be part of Communist East Germany.  My family chose to abandon the family home in the East in favour of living in the democratic west.  They experienced first-hand what it was like to have a city, a people, and a country divided by a wall. This wall stood for decades, separating families and a nation. 

My parents were married in January of 1957 and a few short weeks boarded a ship destined for Canada. Why did they leave? They left a country that had been physically decimated by war, demoralized and divided by the cold war.  Berlin was in the epicenter of the Cold War.  After a week+  at sea they landed at Pier 21 in Halifax.  From Halifax they travelled by train to Toronto. They had a few suitcases and perhaps a few hundred dollars…and great hope to start a new life in a country free of war.  They also arrived in a country that 12 years before had been at war with Germany, but still Canada opened its’ doors to Germans to emigrate. In fact the Canadian gov’t recruited Germans, as they had the foresight to know that the German people were hard working, educated and skilled labourers.  A young country like Canada needed a workforce to grow to its potential. A people that a dozen years before had been the enemy were now being welcomed to come…and stay. My parents came and stayed. They found work, became Canadian citizens, never missed an election, started a business. It’s been 60 years now and the family has grown. They had 2 children and now have 4 grandchildren, and will soon have a great grandchild.

I am one of those children. Born in Scarborough but raised in small town Ontario.  My parents decided to leave Toronto in 1969, opting for country life in Haliburton.  Two families that had become friends in Toronto, both with similar stories moved to Haliburton together and were the only immigrants of German decent to choose to live in Haliburton.  And in true Canadian fashion they were accepted and in due course they too became ‘locals’. 

I don’t want to imply that this story is all sunshine and lollipops. Of course there were bumps on the road. Difficult economic times, feelings of not belonging are part of the story. But with perseverance the negative experiences were overcome.  At times we pretend that Canada is free of prejudice and hate, that everyone here gets treated fairly with equal opportunities. That of course is not true. We have our blemishes and faults.  I know that the kids of Syrian refugees will be subjected to racist and ignorant comments from their peers and may experience it as adults as well. We have work to do here…  I grew up in the 1970’s and 80’s and there were times on the playground that I was called a “Nazi” or “the enemy” and I know these comments didn’t originate with the kids, but with what they overheard at the dinner table. Kids are not born hating, it’s learned.  Fortunately in my case those comments were not the norm and I grew up feeling like I belonged here. I also had the “advantage’ of being white and of Christian descent so could blend in more easily.

So what did I hear at our dinner table as a kid?  There was and is plenty of political talk. I was told of the dangers of extreme Nationalism. I was told that the complacency of the electorate could lead to nasty consequences. I was told that war was a horrifying experience and that perhaps if politicians had to go to the front lines perhaps they would find ways to work out differences peacefully. I was told that isolationism lead to ignorance and intolerance, and that a free and accessible education system was the ticket for the lower classes to succeed. I was told not to accept things at face value and to look a little deeper for facts and then make up my own mind.  All those lessons have served me well, and I hope to pass them on to my kids. And I will teach my kids to be proud that their Grandparents were immigrants.

So once again I ask, let’s put the hate to bed. Get to know your neighbours no matter what their colour, race or religion might be. Put out your hand in friendship. They will value your friendship while they’re working hard… so their kids have it better than they did…