Being Canadian, I’ve found myself mistaken for an American countless times while traveling abroad. And honestly, it’s a geographically understandable error. I was born in Sarnia, Ontario, while my cousins were born just across the river in Port Huron, Michigan. The mere 5.4 miles separating our birthplaces essentially determined our nationalities. It really highlights how thin and, in some ways, random those border lines can be.” A US comedian once said that Canadians are like Americans except for universal healthcare and love of guns.
“Canada, along with the United States, stands out among G7 nations for its principle of birthright citizenship, also known as jus soli. This means that, generally, anyone born within Canadian territory is automatically granted Canadian citizenship. This principle is rooted in Canada’s Citizenship Act, which has evolved over time since its initial enactment in 1946. It’s important to note that while the general rule is birthright citizenship, there are some very limited exceptions, such as children born to foreign diplomats.”
Despite the international border that separated our birthplaces by a mere 5.4 miles, my cousins and siblings shared a remarkably similar upbringing. We were all of Irish descent, raised Catholic, and bound by a shared family history. Our fathers, both veterans of World War II – my uncle in the American forces, my father in the Canadian Army – exemplified the porous nature of that border, where lives intertwined through marriage, work, and community.
A source of immense pride was our shared great uncle, ‘Mike’ Ward, ‘The Sarnia Wonder.’ He wasn’t just a professional boxer; he was Sarnia’s first internationally renowned athlete, a figure as celebrated in his time as Mike Weir is today. His tragic death in 1906, which prompted the Sarnia Observer to call for a ban on boxing, cemented his legendary status.
Our shared cultural experiences transcended national lines. We all grew up cheering for the same sports teams, a testament to the strong ties between our communities. One of my fondest childhood memories is the annual pilgrimage to Tiger Stadium in Detroit, a tradition that underscored the deep connection we felt, regardless of which side of the border we called home.
My father’s favourite hockey team was the Detroit Red Wings, and his hockey hero was Gordie Howe. My dad would always marvel at the way Gordie Howe played, he was called “Mr. Elbows” for his use of his elbows to create space and protection
During the closing credits of the 1 March 2025 episode of Saturday Night Live, Canadian comedian Mike Myers made a surprise guest appearance on SNL this past weekend (March 1), playing Trump’s lackey Elon Musk. At the end of the show, when monologue-bombing host Shane Gillis signed off, Myers wore an unzipped puffy vest, pointing at the slogan on his shirt that read, “Canada: Not for Sale.”
As the credits rolled, he pointed at his elbow and mouthed “elbows up” to the camera — a phrase used by Canadians to advocate for responding to the US’s aggressive economic policies in kind. Premier of Manitoba Wab Kinew said about Trump’s tariffs back in January, “We can’t be a punching bag, and we have to get our elbows up and let other folks know that we’re in the ring there too.”
US tariffs on Canadian goods went into effect. The US and Canadian stock markets continued their downturn amidst the news.
In a recent survey of Canadians, fifty-five percent say they are feeling anger, followed by 37 percent who say they feel betrayed, according to the Angus Reid Institute poll. Twenty-nine percent of respondents say the threats have made us anxious.
Amidst the noise of the trade disputes with our southern neighbour’s, one stark difference stands out for those of us raised near the border: universal healthcare. As I recovered from a heart attack in a Canadian hospital, the reality of that difference became profoundly clear. In less than 12 hours after entering the emergency room, I was diagnosed and received an angioplasty with 2 stents to treat 2 blocked arteries.
The mere 5.4 miles that dictated my nationality meant the difference between financial burden and peace of mind. My only cost was $18.50 for parking. For that, I am deeply grateful to be a Canadian.
Elbows Up!
