Citizenship confers sense of belonging

Every time I attend a citizenship ceremony I learn something I didn’t know before. This happens even though the same judge inevitably tells the same stories and reiterates the same points. He prattles on about rights and responsibilities and recounts the history of his own family’s immigration experience. I wonder how often the uniformed Mountie has stoically stood through the same speech.

At some point, the judge always says something about celebrating “a happy and momentous occasion,” and gladly welcomes one and all “to the Canadian family.” Such sentiments warmed the mid-October Winnipeg chill when my friends—a Liberian family—smiled broadly and stood proudly as they declared their allegiance to the queen.

My own mind wandered back 30 years, to the time when it was my turn to attend a ceremony and take the Oath of Citizenship, the final formal requirement in the somewhat bewildering but strangely affirming process of becoming a Canadian citizen.

As I listened to the judge’s words through the haze of old memories, I picked up some new historical information. Obviously I wasn’t paying proper attention at previous ceremonies. Imagine that. This time I was struck by the fact that although Canada is 140 years old, the status of Canadian citizenship has only been around for 60 years.

That’s right. Prior to 1947 people living in this country were considered British subjects. On January 3, 1947 Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King was honoured with the first citizenship certificate. This was, by all accounts, a momentous and happy occasion. It joyfully marked a new level of maturity and formally conferred a deep sense of belonging to a people already functioning as a nation.

Citizenship is about belonging. The word for people who are not citizens is alien.

I was 22 when I moved permanently to Canada. My father was born and raised in Canada. My mother was born and raised in the United States. They met and married as missionaries in Ethiopia, where I was born and raised. In one sense I always felt I belonged to three countries. In reality, however, I was somewhat alien in each.

I don’t think I realized at the time how that changed as I stood in a ceremony I would not have attended had it not been required. Strangely, these ceremonies become more meaningful as time passes. It is increasingly a privilege to welcome others to join the Canadian family, to be fully at home in country where they were not natural born.

Today it occurs to me that citizenship is a lot like salvation. It’s easy to take one’s status for granted, but regular reconsideration—like ceremonies and oaths—can help us discover and appreciate new layers of meaning.