Indignity at a citizenship ceremony | TheSpec.com

2023/06/22 Leave a comment

A bit overwrought about the mention of Sir John A (lest we forget that Canada as a country might not have existed without him and others) but otherwise valid observations (although I suspect most participants were less critical than her):

A few weeks ago, I attended the citizenship ceremony of a dear friend of mine. I’ve never been more embarrassed to be a Canadian than I was that morning.

Once a Syrian refugee who had been kidnapped and tortured by ISIS, my friend had been looking forward to this day since his 2016 arrival in Canada. The agonizingly long wait he’d faced to have his citizenship application approved made it a particularly momentous occasion.

Arriving at the Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada (IRCC) building on a sunny Monday morning, an air of excited anticipation filled the lobby. The presiding official initiated the ceremony with opening remarks, including a land acknowledgment and a brief foray into Canada’s history as a nation of immigrants.

About two sentences after painfully mispronouncing the name of the Haudenosaunee nation, the official turned her attention to John A. Macdonald, painting Canada’s first prime minister as an archetypal immigrant which new Canadians ought to consider and revere.

Let me remind you of some of Macdonald’s other accomplishments, which include rubber-stamping the establishment of residential schools and enacting draconian Indian policy all with the goal of ridding Canada of its first peoples and their ways of being. Of all the immigrants the official could have mentioned who have shaped Canadian history, I question whether Macdonald was an appropriate choice.

Off to a cringeworthy start, the ceremony continued in a blundering fashion as the clerk continually lost her place in the order of ceremony. Every few minutes, everyone clapped their hands to their ears to muffle the ear-splitting squeal of microphone feedback as it became increasingly clear that IRCC had not troubled themselves to conduct a sound check that morning.

When the time came for the candidates to take their oath, the presiding member gave instructions for the candidates to repeat the words of the oath line by line after her. The candidates stood and proudly recited the oath — at least until the presiding official began to read in French.

This woman did not speak a lick of French. As she bungled rudimentary French phonetics and the candidates struggled to follow, audience members exchanged awkward looks. Some (myself included) struggled to maintain their composure at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

The time in the ceremony came for certificates to be awarded, which involved the clerk reading through each candidate’s name. Considering the abundance of pronunciation blunders that had already occurred in the ceremony, I bet you can guess how well that went.

In the weeks since this ceremony, I’ve been reflecting on the sloppiness, carelessness, and ignorance that it imbued.

What does a ceremony like this communicate to citizen candidates, many of whom have walked long and arduous journeys to reach this day? A person’s citizenship ceremony is a once in a lifetime event, a solemn occasion that ought to be approached with deep care and respect. One would think minimum preparation would include learning to pronounce candidates’ names and ensuring that the sound system functions properly.

What message does it send to the first peoples of this land we call home? The recent amendment of the oath to include a recognition and affirmation of the rights of First Nations, Inuit and Métis peoples means nothing if it doesn’t even inform the content of the rest of the ceremony.

What does it communicate to Francophone citizens when a ceremony that is supposed to honour the heritage of French Canadians does the exact opposite?

Fortunately, the ceremony took a turn for the better as the clerk invited a representative from Bethel Gospel Tabernacle to give closing remarks. Volunteers from the church then offered refreshments, smiles, handshakes, and greeting cards. The journeys each person had walked to arrive at this moment were honoured with an authentic, joy-filled welcome.

Bethel’s dignifying welcome put IRCC’s slipshod ceremony to shame. If a handful of church volunteers can do it, surely IRCC can too.

Lynn Bruulsema is a JD Candidate at Osgoode Hall Law School and an aspiring immigration lawyer.

Source: Indignity at a citizenship ceremony | TheSpec.com

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