Where do you come from?

I grew up in four different countries, I’ve moved seven times in my short lifetime, and I’ve been the new kid at seven different schools.

When I was younger I used to ignore other people’s cultures, in my mind it was a part of who a person is, but I didn’t need to understand it in order to appreciate someone’s personality, their mannerisms, or their minds. I was constantly on the move, and meeting new people as people, without asking where they came from, was natural to me.

I was somewhat confused at how people assumed I was fundamentally different because I spoke a different language and had lived somewhere else.

A walk through some Canadian mountains

On a frozen Canadian lake

My family is French Canadian, we have our own culture and traditions. We break out the fiddle and the guitar and we dance and sing on New Year’s. Quebec has a history which I feel strongly about. It’s my place, my country.

On April Fool’s Daay a few years ago, I was going about my normal April fool’s nonsense, mainly sticking paper fish on people’s backs, a tradition held by many French speaking countries (it used to be real fish but that evolved to paper as people’s sense of hygiene became more sophisticated). It’s insanely fun to watch other people’s reactions, and even more fun when one of my friends who have seen me do this before join me in explaining the origins of this practical April fools joke.

I brought my tape and paper fish to synchronized swimming practice, banking on my teammates to be supportive and try to help stick a fish on my coach’s back.

I was taken aback when one of my friends rolled her eyes and told me the whole fish idea was silly, and couldn’t understand why I was doing it. She told me to just let it go and stop being such a child. My Jewish teammate, one of the nicest and quietest people I know, turned and started bashing the other girl for her unexpected disrespect. I’m sure she understood the funny pain in my chest, she had no doubt had someone roll their eyes at one of her own traditions.

I was completely dazed by the whole situation, and embarrassed both because of the paper fish in my hand, which suddenly felt thin and meaningless, and the sets of eyes judging and taking sides.

I kept remembering a time back in England when my Flemish friend looked straight at me and told me she missed home. I reciprocated the feeling so intensely, despite having no “home” of my own. She wanted to be where she knew the people she was talking to, where she could speak her own language and no one would dismiss a part of her culture as simply a bit of trivial conversation, or a silly amusement, because they shared experiences with it.

A park in Connecticut

In some ways I had the right idea, every person is an individual human being, no matter their background. But we were all raised as part of a certain culture, and understand the value of certain traditions and rituals that others might misunderstand and find insignificant. Understanding someone’s culture is important in order for every group of people on this diverse planet to get along. No one should feel alienated when they move to a different country, or find themselves attacked for a tradition that is close to their heart, whether a rite of passage established centuries ago or a ritual their family put in place.

At a museum in Belgium

When I walked onto my college campus during orientation week, one of the questions I was asked most frequently was “Where do you come from?”

This is frankly one of the hardest questions I will ever have to answer, because it forces me to pick and identify with only one singular culture. The question has its validity, however.

Although it could be worded in a more efficient manner, it is useful in allowing people of similar backgrounds to come together for support in a new place, which can be uninviting, and to signify their cultural upbringing to people from different places, and push others to that first step in understanding their new acquaintance’s traditions.