Where does it begin?

My journey to explore intercultural communication began here. With some of these wonderful people.

These pictures speak of my cultural identity. Clearly, I was in the unexamined cultural identity phase (Oetzel, 2009, p. 67) in both of these photographs. That is me – the tiny infant being held and loved by three other generations of family members.  I had not yet embarked on the cultural awakening that I was about to experience. As a tiny child, I was content in the love of all of the people who grace my life. My gramma's smile is still one of the most precious things to see, and I realize that I am blessed, because many people didn't know a great-grandparent into their twenties. 

These photographs speak of adoration, family history, and growing to become the person I was meant to be because these truly remarkable people have supported and encouraged me to be who I am.

What I recall of my search for my identity began early in my life - somewhere in early grade school. I was so proud to be part Japanese, mostly because people could never tell by looking at me what my ethnicity was, but when I told them my last name was "Oishi," almost everyone said that they could definitely see the Japanese in my eyes!

I loved that. Being Japanese meant that I had my great-grandma's beautiful eyes. It meant that I was unique, and it meant that I was connected to a people who had a history, with stories to tell and lessons to learn.

Identifying with my Japanese roots also meant curiosity for me. I was curious about what Japanese Canadians endured through the second World War. I was also curious about the language, and as a young person, resented that I had to learn French in school, when I had a much more interesting language that I wanted to learn!  

Curiously still, I spent little of my childhood wondering about my other history – my French Canadian roots.

My great-great-grandmother and grandfather came to Canada from France, and settled in rural Saskatchewan (which later became part of Alberta). They were homesteaders and settlers; the kind of people that you read about in Canadian history books. They bought a farm, and were so poor that the only home they could afford was a sod hut that housed their huge family (my great-grandma had 11 brothers and sisters!).

I’m not sure why that fascinated me less as a child than the Japanese side. Certainly, a trip to Heritage Park in Calgary meant that I was walking in almost the same shoes as those of my great-great grandparents. I think that, at the time, being a fifth-generation Canadian wasn't that interesting.  I think I wanted to tell stories about how my family endured the war, rather than that they endured the horrible prairie winters.

Until Mother’s Day, 2002, when I was able to attend a ceremony with my mother and grandmother to honour the pioneering spirit of my great-great grandmother’s life. Even today, my cultural heritage is memorialized with a statue that was created to honour pioneering women. I am so proud.

I’m lucky to be a fifth-generation French-Canadian, a fourth-generation Japanese-Canadian, and a third-generation Scottish-Canadian. And I realize that although my Canadian heritage is made up of many components of other ethnic identities, I can say unequivocally, I am a Canadian. That is my salient identity (Oetzel, 2009, p. 59).

I think I'll head to my grandparents' house to see what other ways I can find to connect with my history, and who I really am.

References

Oetzel, J. (2009). Intercultural communication: a layered approach. Upper Saddle River, New Jersey: Pearson Education, Inc.

Photo credits:  personal collection