It’s not every day that you get to witness patriotism being written right in front of you, in ink, with signatures, and often with stories that spill out alongside the pen. That’s what the Forever Canadian initiative has felt like for me.
At the start, it seemed like the people showing up were all a little like me, white boomers, carrying the weight of memory and responsibility. But slowly, beautifully, that changed. Grandparents arrived with their grandchildren, not to lecture but to share in something bigger than themselves. Young parents came with toddlers on their hips, saying, “This is their Canada too.” And one night, Alison and I found ourselves invited into a gathering of Indo-Canadian families. At first, we stood out like wallpaper. But once the conversations began, stories poured forward, stories of immigration, of long waits and proud oaths of citizenship, of three generations now fully rooted in this province and fiercely proud to be Canadian.
That is what unity looks like. It isn’t forced. It doesn’t come with slogans or party lines. It grows in the space where people can openly say, “Yes, I want Alberta to remain a part of Canada. Yes, I want to keep this country strong.”
I’ve heard farmers say their neighbors might hang separation banners as a political protest, but in the kitchen over coffee, they admit they don’t actually want to break up Canada. I’ve spoken with people who once felt afraid to fly the Canadian flag because of how aggressively their neighbors flew it upside down. And now, I’ve watched those same people put their names down with a sense of relief, finally able to reclaim their pride in this country without fear. And one of my first signatures was an Indigenous elder, representative of the first peoples of this country, whose presence and contributions remain foundational to who we are as Canadians.
This is something every individual can do right now to support our country. Signing isn’t symbolic, it’s action. It’s saying that as we work through the challenges in front of us, we choose unity over fracture. And this is not just about Alberta. It’s about Canada. It’s about those who have been here for many generations, those who have been here for one or two, and those who have only just arrived. I think often of the people who stood at my table, eager to sign, only to stop themselves with quiet disappointment: “I can’t. I’m PR, permanent resident.” Even they want to add their names, to show their commitment to the future of this country they’ve worked so hard to join. That alone should remind us of the value of what we already have.
Our amazing tapestry is woven from people whose families carved out farms and towns a century ago, alongside those whose grandparents arrived through post-war immigration, alongside those who stepped off a plane only a few years back with little more than their dreams and their determination. They all want Canada to succeed. They all know this country is worth keeping whole.
So yes, this exercise is about what must be done for our country. But maybe just as much, it’s about what we already have, and too often forget to see. Instead of dwelling on what’s broken, this effort has reminded me of what’s still unshakably strong: the love of country, the pride in unity, the refusal to let division win.
On a Saturday morning, as I pack up my things and head out for another pop-up, I feel reinforced and revitalized. And I remember the words of my father, who told me as a child: “When you were born in Canada, you had already won the lottery.” Please, let that remain our truth.
Nancy's Notes 