Welcome to Canada, Please Mind Your Dreams… and yes, that pun was totally intended.
Finding humour in every situation — no matter how disastrous — is something I learnt from my father. The man had zero control over his laughter. None. My mother still tells the story of how he once burst into uncontrollable giggles at a funeral because someone whispered a joke. Everyone else wept; my father wheezed.
So, in honour of that legacy, here’s me trying to find humour in an awkward situation I stumbled into. Whether I wanted to join the conversation or not while desperately hunting for the cheapest groceries, I was pulled into it anyway — involuntarily, unexpectedly, and very much against my will.
And just in case — for the overzealous few already preparing to tell me to “go back where I came from” — here’s a fun fact: I’m a citizen too. Surprise! We’re all in this together… for better, for worse, and for the price of groceries that makes none of us feel particularly patriotic.
I was wandering the aisles of a certain grocery store, lost in my thoughts and contemplating my life choices while staring at a single, lonely bell pepper priced at x dollars, when a man behind me grumbled loudly enough for the tomatoes to file a complaint: “You people take all the jobs.”
I turned, smiled with the politeness of someone who has fully embraced their immigrant trauma, and delivered my well-practised line:
“Sir, I can’t even get the job I want. If you know where they’re giving out extra jobs, please send me the link. I need money for this pepper.”
He blinked. The pepper and I blinked back.
A few weeks later, my neighbour (not my immediate neighbour, of course — I’d like to keep her location shrouded in mystery. And no, my recent X-Files binge has absolutely nothing to do with this. Trust me. Probably) — let’s call her Mrs. Robbins because the real name deserves witness protection — paused mid-hedge-trimming to sigh dramatically. “All these newcomers are driving up housing prices.”
I glanced at her complexion, then checked mine using my phone’s front camera, comparing us like I was adjusting a Photoshop color palette. At first, I thought about snapping her picture to include with this article but honestly, the difference between our skin tones was maybe one hexadecimal shade — we practically looked copy-pasted. It reminded me of that joke I once read about all immigrants “looking alike,” which made her comment even more surprising.
I slid my phone back into my pocket and snorted so loudly a squirrel fell off the fence in shock.
“Ma’am, I live in a basement suite beneath a man named Richard (made up name), and I can’t afford a houseplant. Forget a house. The only thing I’m driving up is the cost of my own misery.”
She’s the unofficial chief of the neighbourhood watch, people usually don’t mind her dolling out free advices and I didnt either (if you call this advice).
And that’s when it hit me: immigrants are Canada’s favourite multipurpose scapegoats.
If the economy dips? Immigrants.
If rent rises? Immigrants.
If the Toronto Maple Leafs get kicked out of the playoffs again? Immigrants — obviously. We simply don’t understand the sacred national ritual of annual disappointment.
And it’s not just Canada, mind you. Look at the protests in Australia, the violence against immigrants in Ireland, and the good old US of A, where blaming hard-working immigrants is practically a national pastime. It’s a global phenomenon — everyone’s yelling at newcomers, but no one wants to talk about the actual issues. It’s like the whole world agreed to blame the wrong people and then went out for lunch.
These folks never muster the courage to question their own government for bringing in more immigrants than the infrastructure can handle — not a peep, not a whisper. But they’ll happily vent all that pent-up frustration on the first unsuspecting immigrant they bump into, like we’re customer service for national policy.
Over time, I mastered the art of smiling through existential rage. It’s practically a citizenship requirement. Behind the politeness, every immigrant learns to carry a tiny, invisible scream — one that comes out only when the Wi-Fi drops or when the permanent residency fees go up again.
But here’s the thing: despite the snide comments, the overpriced produce, and the unsolicited economic theories from backyard philosophers, and keyboard warriors, most of us didn’t come here to steal anything. We came here to build something — a life, a future, a place where our dreams don’t need visas.
STOP GENERALISING US, FOR HEAVENS SAKE++
WE’RE IMMIGRANTS, NOT A SINGLE PERSONALITY TYPE.
So yes, welcome to Canada — please mind your dreams. Keep them warm. Keep them fed. And if you ever find where they’re handing out those extra jobs, do let the rest of us know. Some of us are still trying to buy that bell pepper.
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