A Canada Built to Last: A Letter to Every Story Under One Northern Sky

In my home, Toronto (where over half the population wasn't born here), it's fair to ask how we can all feel like we truly belong. Do we measure it by the number of winters we've endured or by the language we speak at home? Do we find it in an old family tale about crossing the ocean or in the quiet choice to put down roots in a place our ancestors never knew?

Where We Come From

I often think back to a personal memory: standing by a frozen lake in rural Ontario with my father. Our family goes back generations here; my great-grandfather sailed from England, but by the time I was born, we were as Canadian as they come. You, however, might have a completely different starting point, perhaps an apartment in Scarborough, a home in Manila, Mumbai, or Montego Bay, or somewhere else entirely. Yet something pulled us all toward this land, forging a bond that a single story can't capture.

In that winter twilight, my father gazed at a small Canadian flag fluttering on a makeshift pole near the shore. He never said a word, but the look on his face suggested he saw more than cloth (he saw a promise that, in Canada, we could aim high and still have a community that caught us if we stumbled.)

Where We Stand

Fast-forward to now and that promise is being tested. Housing prices in places like Toronto or Vancouver surge beyond what many families can afford. A recent CBC analysis shows that even modest homes in GTA suburbs command figures that make first-time buyers shrug in resignation.

Healthcare, our prized national symbol of compassion, is bending under the weight of long wait times and staff shortages. Meanwhile, reconciliation efforts remain painfully incomplete; some Indigenous communities still can't rely on clean water (a glaring contradiction in a country known for its natural resources.) And for newcomers, the path to belonging can be littered with barriers, from credential recognition to cultural isolation.

Where We Go Next

Yet beneath these challenges, I still sense a resilient spirit (alive in local cafés offering a taste of "home" to newcomers) in volunteer-run mentorship programs that help young people dream bigger and in neighbours (Yes, in Canada, this is how it's spelt)) who step up for each other during harsh winters or summer floods. These moments remind me of my father's silent reverence by the lake: a love for this land that transcends words.

Today, that love might mean fighting for more inclusive housing policies so a new family in Mississauga doesn't feel priced out. It might mean blending private-sector innovation with public healthcare funding, preserving our commitment to universal care but reducing wait times that leave too many in pain. And it definitely means hearing Indigenous voices (not as a formality but as a true partnership) so that land long stewarded by Indigenous Peoples thrives for all of us.

A Call to Believe

Whether you were born here or arrived just last year, you have a part in writing this next chapter. Shop at a local market run by an immigrant family. Invite a newcomer to your office or lunch. Lend your voice to policy discussions about affordability or climate resilience. When you pass a Canadian flag (be it on a flagpole, a backpack, or a digital screen in Dundas Square), let it be more than a symbol. Let it be a reminder of our collective stake in a better tomorrow.

I still think of that frozen lake, the hush of the evening, and my father's steady gaze. His ancestors once believed this country was worth crossing an ocean for. Many of you, or your families, believed the same, leaving behind everything familiar to start fresh. That same faith keeps us striving, hand in hand, to shape a Canada that lives up to its highest ideals (where opportunity is real, compassion is more than a buzzword, and every accent under the sun finds a place to call home.)

If you feel even a glimmer of that faith, hold on to it. Act on it. Share it. Because when enough of us decide to believe in a Canada built to last, we become the very reason it does.

With gratitude and unshakable hope,

A Fellow Canadian

(Carrying forward the promise that each of our stories can find a home under one northern sky.)