Via Jay Nordlinger:
…Several years ago, in between periods of a hockey game, a black player [Anson Carter] was being interviewed. The host referred to him as “African-American,” and the player corrected him, saying, “I’m Canadian.” Less than a minute later, the host repeated the error, and again the player corrected him. This happened at least twice more. The look on the face of the poor interviewer was one of abject horror: He knew that he was in a PC minefield.
a natural born ie canadian born black man is a canadian not an african the same applies to americans they are black americans not africans. i’m a canadian my ancestors were not.
If someone from France is also called a European, why can’t someone from Canada be called an American. This country is situated on an Ameican continent, just like France is situated in Europe.
Just a thought, it would be different if the reporter had called him an African Yank.
Regards
I agree! We need not be so nationalistic in this case. “North Americans” or western hemispheric “Americans” we are.
“If someone from France is also called a European, why can’t someone from Canada be called an American.”
Because Canadians, for the most part, define themselves as being not American. If Canadians started referring to themselves as American, it would destroy the national identity — well what’s left of it, anyway.
And what would happen to American exceptionalism if our northern cousins started referring to themselves as American? Alexis de Tocqueville would spin in his grave. http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Ethnocentrism
“Willie [O’Ree] isn’t black, he’s a Bruin.” — Milt Schmidt, in a gentler and more sensible age.
In other news, my son’s daycare has a photo of Herb Carnegie, who is a patron of one of their programs.
Tell me, please, that the interviewer finally stepped on one of the mines ;o)
Heh… reminds me of an incident with a female neighbor, a few years ago. Being a contractor, spending almost all of my working hours outdoors, I tend to tan to the extreme during the Summer.
This woman of British upbringing tied herself in knots interrogating me as to my ancestry. All I’d answer was variations of “I’m Canadian…My parents are Canadian…my Grandparents were Canadian”…trumping her Canadianness by at least 80 years! 🙂