Diversity Is All Inclusive

I’m going to go uncharacteristically un-P.C. tonight. Not that I’m typically politically correct just for the sake of being politically correct, but I generally end up being P.C.* because of my worldview.

Honesty is my usual policy so here it is even if it works against me.

On Thursday night I was the only woman of colour to join some law school girls on the first of what we hope will be many ladies’ nights. We dined on some pretty, but pretty bad food at the Pickle Barrel. We then paid good money to watch “Rumour Has It.” I had a blast but was definitely conscious about how white bread the night was. Like the “Canadian White” bread they sell in New England. Love how that’s somewhat foreign to me.

And this has nothing to do with skin colour. I mean, I’m not denying the colour of their skin; but that’s not what made the night so white.

I should stop before I have extract my massive feet out of my mouth. Wow. It’s amazing how fatigue really destroys your ability to articulate intelligent thoughts clearly.

Anyway, you take the above as proof that I don’t only hang out with smug folk who scoff at their pretentious peers while coming across as equally (and annoyingly) pretentious. Then again, the majority of those law school chicks are political and very much in tune with Peggy McIntosh and the like. So maybe I’m just back to being little Miss Smug Diverse Toronto. Heck, even the Pickle Barrel makes me think Jewish and not Anglo-Canadian.

I could go on and on about intersectional identities and how I’ve devoted too many years (or perhaps not enough) to the theme of identity in various academic disciplines (probably because of my own intersectional reality); but I won’t, because frankly, I’m still confused.

Still, I must say that I do love how I feel less and less torn between different parts of me that I know and love. Even the part of me deeply infused with Anglo-Canadian sensibilities.

So ’twas all good when my brother peered at the Chatelaine-esque creamy pasta bake that I made for dinner and said, “Mmmmm. Pasta casserole? That’s what you call it, right? I feel so White.”

*In case there is any confusion, I definitely mean “politically correct” when I throw around P.C. Heaven forbid that y’all think that I am confused enough to think that the new Conservatives are still “progressive” in name or otherwise. I don’t want to get into election talk either. I will say that I did not vote for the party that will form our new minority government. I did wish that progressive were somehow there, but instead “neo” seems to be the better prefix.

2 Responses:

  1. reesie Says:

    Ok, so Canadian white bread isn’t really Canadian? And it’s only sold in New England? No kidding. I am becoming SUCH a goddamn yankee. Maybe you will stop noticing the difference between you and the whities (or round-eyes as I like to call them) the more you hang out with them. It might just be awkward the first time knowing that you’re their Token Asian Girl?

  2. gino888 Says:

    Okay. My favorite Canadian chain — although I have the Pizza Nova theme constantly runing through my head — has to be Swiss Chalet. Although I don’t seem to remember Rotisserie Chicken and Ribs to be particularly Swiss. Perhaps this is the German side of the Alps. And then I can’t get the orange Pizza Pizza boxes out of my head when I think about Toronto. Wasn’t it 976 something or other? Ah well.

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