When a Canadian is Not a Canadian

Ahhh, Canadian beers. They were my favorite before I even moved to Canada. I particularly like Moosehead. I remember the days when I could buy a six pack of Moosehead in Michigan for under $6 plus deposit.

Once I moved to Canada, I discovered many other Canadian beers that are not available in the USA and were just as good as Moosehead. I am particularly enamored with Sleeman Draught, Alexander Keith’s Red, and St. Ambroise Apricot Wheat Ale.

One of the biggest surprises to me when I arrived in Canada was the apparent insignificance of Labatt Blue as a popular brew. In the US, Labatt markets itself as the beer of Canada, representing all things Canadian. But, at least in Southern Ontario, the standard Canadian beer that epitomizes all things Canadian is Molson.

Molson is fairly popular in Michigan, but Labatt was definitely the most prevalent Canadian beer there, both in advertising and in shelf space. I really don’t think any of my friends here regularly drink or buy Labatt.

Because my Canadian beer consumption in the US was limited to Labatt and Moosehead, I had never really tried Molson. In Canada, that’s sometimes the only option you have depending on the bar/restaurant/party, and I have to be honest, I find that it’s a good beer. But, in Canada, Molson is not “Molson”—it’s “Canadian.” I had a few issues trying to order beer here when I would ask for a Molson. The waiter or waitress would look at me with a furrowed brow and then, after a long pause say, “Oh, you mean Canadian?”

Ordering a beer I knew as “Molson” by calling it “Canadian” felt as unnatural as ordering sliced turkey in grams rather than pounds. To avoid embarrassment and confusion, I eventually started to adjust.

There was one rather humorous episode where I was at a soccer tournament with some friends. In our hotel room we had a case of Molson Canadian and Molson 67. Before leaving for our game, I asked one of my friends to put the Molson in the refrigerator. When we got back later in the afternoon, I was set for a cold one. However, none of the Molson Canadian was in the fridge. I said to my friend, “Hey, I thought you put the Molson in the fridge.” She insisted, “I did!” I looked again, but all that was in the fridge was the Molson 67. I replied, “No, I mean the regular Molson.” She looked confused, so I gestured at the case of Molson Canadian, and she said, “Ooooh, you wanted the Canadian in the fridge. I put the Molson in like you asked.” Still pointing at the case, I said, “This IS Molson!” She argued, “No, that’s not Molson--that’s CANADIAN!” In the end, I actually had to show her the labelling on the case to prove that “Canadian” was made by Molson!

I have recently come to a point where I can order a Canadian at the bar without feeling awkward and know I’m getting a Molson. I think that means that I’m getting to the point where I AM CANADIAN???

Then I visited my family in Michigan for US Thanksgiving. For dinner on Friday night, we went, of all places, to a French-Canadian themed restaurant. Sure enough, the only beer on draft was Canadian. As I had spent most of the day battling Black Friday crowds, I felt in the mood for a beer, so when the waitress came over, I asked for a Canadian. She gave me a confused look and began stammering. I realized what was happening and said, “Uh, I mean a Molson.” And you know what? That felt very awkward to me!

Pure Discrimination

I spent a good portion of the month of November trying to convince my co-worker Kevin to take his annual pre-Christmas shopping trip to Michigan, over three hours away, rather than his usual one and a half hour trek to Buffalo, NY. I told him the Michiganders were very friendly, the deals were better, and the area nicer. Besides, I explained, he could get a quality hotel for a very reasonable price as the economy isn’t great in Michigan and they are doing everything they can to boost tourism.

I do spend a lot of time promoting Michigan as a tourist destination. I am always gushing about the gorgeous lakeshore areas on the west side of the state, the beautiful wine country near Grand Traverse Bay, the friendliness and warmth of the people, and the great deals available for travel in an economy that relies heavily on tourism but is struggling because of the other reliance—the auto industry. Most Ontarians are now familiar with the Pure Michigan commercials on the radio and the billboards designed to attract their tourist dollars to a beautiful place just as short drive away.

My pride in my home state is something I have trouble hiding. I am constantly telling Canadians that there is so much more to Michigan than Detroit, and advising them to check out some of the other parts of the state when they are looking for a long-weekend getaway. The more I am away from Michigan, the more it becomes idealized in my mind, as is true with any relationship—absence makes the heart grow fonder.

But as with other relationships, my relationship with my beloved home state is currently going through a rocky period.

Lately, I have picked up a new hobby, which is making jewelry out of coins. I find this activity enjoyable and it’s a neat way to make personalized gifts for people. And a great way to make gifts for myself! To that end, I purchased a sterling silver issue of the Michigan quarter, and a silver coin bezel to mount it. I was so excited to have this cool piece of jewelry to wear around and show my Michigan pride.

The same day I wore my new pendant for the first time, I stumbled online across a great debate about Michigan’s endangered status as the mitten state. Apparently, the Wisconsinites have decided that their state also looks like a mitten, and most Michiganders, like myself, are very offended. Wisconsin looks nothing like a mitten, but everyone has known for years that Michigan is THE mitten. After Wisconsin beat Michigan State for the Big 10 college football championship, this Wisconsin mitten comparison just got everyone in The True Mitten very heated.

So, I was looking at a Michigan news website, reading an article about the great mitten debate, and chuckling to myself at the foolishness of the Wisconsinites when links to other Michigan news stories on the side of the screen caught my eye: “Michigan Senate Bans Domestic Partner Benefits” and “Governor Snyder Says He’ll Sign Domestic Partner Benefits Ban.”

At first I felt a fool because these tidbits took me quite by surprise. I had no idea that this type of legislation was still worming its way through the Republican Michigan legislature. I remember in 2004 when a snaky referendum took place and my fellow Michiganders voted to not only ban gay marriage, but to ban gay unions, and most maliciously, any “similar union for any purpose,” embedding this tyranny in the state constitution. With that referendum passed, thousands of gay employees of government institutions or institutions receiving government money lost their domestic partner benefits in an instant. I thought the whole thing had died, and I had even semi-forgiven my fellow Michiganders for passing such a foolish law in the first place. But, I guess that wasn’t the end of the battle for the Republicans, who felt the need to cement the discrimination further with more laws.

I sat stunned for a moment, and thought about all the hardships I went through in Michigan because I did not have the right to marry. I thought about gay friends who couldn’t have time off work to attend their partner’s family members’ funerals, my colleagues whose same sex partners were laid off and then were left without benefits. And I thought of all my straight colleagues who enjoyed these benefits. And I thought of all the people I knew in Michigan who voted for a ban on gay marriage and who voted in the Republicans who were still passing such bills. Then I thought of all the energy I’d spent trying to convince Canadians of what a great place Michigan is to visit.

Feeling frustrated and not knowing what else to do, I took off my beautiful new necklace and put it away, out of sight, out of mind. Apparently I could hide my pride.

This past July, New York became the sixth state in the US to allow gay marriages. The next time I feel like taking a shopping trip to the US to pick up stuff I can't get in Canada, I will likely take a short drive to the southeast instead of a longer drive to the west. Maybe some retail therapy in the Empire State will help ease some of the pain at the betrayal of Michigan’s Pure Discrimination.

Feature Article in The Cambridge Times

Well, I know I've started to get settled in Canada when my local newspaper runs a feature story about me!

Here it is, from The Cambridge Times, December 1, 2011

Goodwill event an eye-opener
Cambridge hockey players helps promote game in Iceland
by Bill Doucet

Mary Bonevelle now understands where the Mighty Ducks movies found the inspiration to feature a tough Iceland team in Part 2 of the franchise.

The Cambridge hockey player saw that style first-hand in the second annual Icelandair Ice Hockey Cup last month as part of the TWOW Panthers team.

The team travelled to Iceland as part of a goodwill trip to promote women’s hockey in Iceland and raise money for Iceland’s Red Cross. Part of the price of admission to the games and the entry fee for teams went to the organization. Olympian Sami Jo Small accompanied the team to do a clinic with Iceland players.

One of the teams they faced from the home island featured some “young” female players, said the 38 year old. Their style of play was an eye-opener.

“They were very fast, but also very rough. Even rougher than us,” Bonevelle said with a laugh.
And that was the attitude the players had during the game – enjoying the tournament and playing for the right reasons. According to Bonevelle, Iceland only has three ice rinks on the entire island and women’s hockey isn’t a popular sport. The women’s national team is ranked 29th in the world and plays in the fourth division championships.

The lack of interest actually surprised her, as Iceland is off the coast of Norway and Sweden, where hockey is huge. Then again, Bonevelle moved here in 2008 from Michigan and admits that women’s hockey in that state is probably on the same scale as Iceland.

In fact, she didn’t even learn to skate until she found out she was moving to Canada back in 2008, and ended up being the only adult in her class of four and five year olds.

Bonevelle was a quick learner though and joined the K-W Women’s Recreational Hockey League, of which she is now a board member.

The trip to Iceland didn’t come through the league though, but from a chance meeting with a player from Toronto at this past summer’s Stephanie Boyd Female Hockey School in Gravenhurst.

The woman told Bonevelle about the trip and who to contact. She was put on a waiting list, but was called two days later and offered a spot. She jumped at the chance.

“When am I ever going to get another chance to go to Iceland,” she said, adding that she had a teammate from Cambridge on the Panthers, Stephanie Tuck.

The Panthers beat Iceland’s Valkryja 6-0, TWOW Northern Lightweights 3-1 and lost to The Whistler Bearers 7-1. To win they had to beat SR from Iceland and, after going down 2-0, came back with a 6-2 victory to become the first Canadian women’s team to win a hockey tournament in Iceland.
The games were interesting though, as the other Iceland team they played was comprised of “older” women and sometimes had to be told where to stand for faceoffs. And the referees were – questionable.

“Even though the games were competitive, nobody was complaining about the referees and taking it to the next level. There was just some whining on the bench,” she said.

“The first purpose of the trip was goodwill between the two countries and trying to promote women’s hockey.”

Besides a little headshaking on the ice, Iceland itself offered a bit of a culture shock.

“One of the strangest things I saw there was the way the Icelandic players carry their equipment. They have these big plastic crates, which look like milk crates but a little bit bigger, and they tie a string to it, put their equipment in and drag it around,” she said.

The capital city of Reykjavik, which makes up about two-thirds of the population of the whole island, wasn’t exactly Toronto either.

Since the city is known to be relatively crime free, women would leave their baby carriages and strollers outside shops and restaurants with their babies still in them.

Bonevelle noticed the same practice outside of bars in the evening.

After the experience, she’s hoping to get a Kitchener-Waterloo/Cambridge team together for next year’s October tournament.

“There’s already five Canadian teams there, so I don’t know how many more spots there are for teams. It’s worth a try,” she said.




Cambridge’s Mary Bonevelle (back row, purple bandanna) poses with her TWOW?Panthers teammates after winning the Icelandair Ice Hockey Cup last month in Iceland

Turn Up the Feedback

Americans are never shy about giving feedback. They will tell you their opinions on everything, from whether you should have an abortion to how they rate your driving skills. I grew up in this environment where feedback, both positive and negative, was continual. Obviously, when one is a student in school, feedback is ongoing. But this climate of feedback continues even into adulthood and on the job in the US.

At my previous employer, in Michigan, we were practically required to send complimentary e-mails to our co-workers whenever they did something great, and we were supposed to copy the whole department. Here is an example of an e-mail my boss received from one of my co-workers during that time.

“I just want you to know how impressed I was when I was proof-reading Mary’s Office XP document. I asked her if she used verbiage and/or text from other documents and she said that she did the research herself and composed the whole thing herself. That is quite amazing and that makes her an excellent resource to this department.”

This is just one typical example of about 100 such e-mails I received while working in that department for four years. Of course, I sent just as many e-mails to co-workers and their bosses myself. It became a habit.

On the soccer field in my women’s rec league in Michigan, we always had new gals joining the team who had never played before. While I would be lying if I said that the more experienced players’ frustrations never surfaced during games, I am being honest when I say that these new players were generally overwhelmed with the amount of positive feedback. It was as if we experienced players focused on finding all the positives in what the newbies were doing on the field and only commented on that, or made sure we mentioned these accolades before we got into any gentle constructive criticism.

One persistent theme of this blog has been that the Canadians I’ve encountered seem to keep to themselves more. They don’t advertise their political beliefs on their car bumpers. They don’t ask lots of personal questions. When I was in Girl Scouts and we learned about using pocket knives, we were taught to extend our arm out from our side and make a 360 degree turn with our arm outstretched to make sure we had a “safety circle” so that we would not be in danger of accidentally injuring anyone with our knives. I feel as if most Canadians are constantly keeping a figurative safety circle around them. Sarah claims that this is an example of the British influence in Canada, that the British behave in just as standoffish a manner, if not more so. I always wondered why Sarah’s family makes fun of me by imitating me saying “good job!” I guess that’s a phrase I use often, and with good reason because I never pass up an opportunity to tell someone I think they’ve done well.

In my current position at the insurance company in Canada, I have sent several e-mails to my colleagues and their managers when I feel written praise is warranted. This type of communication is great to save in your personnel file for the end of the year review. And, I think a boss should know when one of their reports is doing something especially well. Much to my surprise, on almost every occasion, these e-mails have only led to stunned silence.

In one case, after sending such an e-mail to a manager, she replied to me, copied my own boss, and chastised me for not copying my own boss on the original message. This came as a surprise because my own boss was in no way involved in the interaction. There was no “thanks for the feedback” or “yes, I agree Cristina is an asset to the company.” Instead I was roundly reprimanded and I felt as if I had breached corporate etiquette.

On other occasions, I have sent the e-mails to colleagues only to get no reply at all, and once I even got a reply from the co-worker in question—she was embarrassed that I had sent a complimentary e-mail to her boss. Additionally, I have never, in over three years in the Canadian workplace, received an e-mail anything like the one I quoted above.

I began to wonder if it was just the corporate culture where I work, but then I started thinking about one of my greatest frustrations since I’ve moved to this country—playing hockey.

Playing ice hockey is not easy. It has been a constant challenge for me, as someone who did not grow up playing hockey or even ice skating. I learned to ice skate when I was 34. I started playing hockey at 35. I still am learning and still have a long way to go. Every game is a massive challenge for me physically and emotionally. After most games, I feel useless and as if I’m just making a fool of myself. I can feel myself getting ever more frustrated, but until recently I couldn’t pinpoint why. I thought about all those newbies who used to play soccer with us in Michigan, and then I recognized the difference—feedback.

The feedback I’ve had during hockey has been mainly limited to the rare “MJ, what position ARE you playing????” and “stay with your point” and “keep your stick on the ice” and “don’t pass on the blue line.” The feedback I do get seems to center on either what I’m doing wrong or how I’m confusing my teammates. I do remember a time when it was a struggle for me just to skate down the ice without falling. Even though I am past that now, and I suspect I’ve improved a great deal, I have little evidence other than my own perceptions and Sarah’s comments (and she’s no hockey expert either). Every once in a while, someone will tell me how much I’ve improved, but I can’t remember the last time anyone in hockey told me anything specific I was doing correctly during games. Have I improved just because I don’t fall as much?

So far, knock on wood, my performance reviews at work have all been stellar. Yet, this is always a surprise to me as it is annual feedback. I really have no indication throughout the year how my performance is perceived. I would imagine that if I should get a negative performance review at work, that would come as just as much of a surprise.

And, yes, I know that I can always just ask those around me for feedback. But, as someone who comes from a climate where feedback is constant and unsolicited, asking for feedback seems just as unnatural to me as giving feedback seems to the people with whom I work and play here.

This coming Monday, my company launches a new internal site that is designed solely to provide a forum for giving positive feedback to co-workers. I find it interesting that this site has been created when such feedback could just have been given through e-mail or verbally all along. I remember how awkward I felt the first time I stepped onto the ice rink in my skates and hockey gear. I wonder if this is how some of my colleagues will feel when they attempt to use this site to praise a co-worker. One thing I can say for sure is that my goal is to be the first one to use the site, and I plan to give positive feedback to those co-workers of mine who are most deserving—so much so that the site crashes on its first day online!