View from the roof of the Victory Column
Being a citizen of a country must grant you certain rights and freedoms right? But Canada begs to differ. I’ve tried to apply for an ID card and a driver’s license only to be turned away by ICBC in Vancouver because I wasn’t resident in Canada. I mean sure, I don’t live here, but can’t I get a card to prove my identity? It’s not like I’m trying to claim healthcare benefits or social welfare, plus I’m paying for the processing fee.
There’s nothing more discouraging for a lost young man than being denied an identity and the right to vote. Surely, my right to vote in federal elections is enshrined in the Canadian Constitution. I do look forward to further amendments to Bill C-37, the unconstitutional law that bars overseas Canadians from voting for their own leaders. It’s not a matter of residency, it’s a matter of principle.
Canada, or B.C. at least, feels a lot less welcoming than Germany. I lived in Berlin for a while as a guest of their land and had no problem obtaining a residence permit that allowed me to work, study, and enjoy local benefits. I even got the right to vote in local elections as a citizen of the State of Berlin. I could attend free community language courses, get reduced healthcare costs, and enjoyed freedom of movement.
Sure, Canada is a nice place, but nice is the word you use to describe a government with no backbone, no loyalty, and no character. Berlin, on the other hand, is the city on the hill for global cultural integration. If parliament doesn’t give me back my rights, Rideau Hall will get another sternly worded letter from a frustrated citizen.
A myriad, a myriad, a myriad more
All the thoughts I have at the door
When I am about to depart from home
I remember what it’s like to be alone
The craving for acceptance and to be wanted
Only come to the freshly departed
“Deutschland gegen intoleranz” they say
And life was alright day by day
Then I leave for Canada, True North and free
The land where I thought home would be
Maple leaf flag – proud to belong
An escape from life’s busy throngs
Knocking on the government’s gate
I was only told to go home and wait
Being turned down by my home land
Losing my rights with none to demand
Where can I go? How can I rest?
If I am nothing more than jest?
This nomadic, restless living
Life of twenty years unforgiving.
