Elbows Up Canada

Written by Zach Whaleberg, 05/21/2025

Last week, Zach traveled to the UK to compete in an international speech competition. He proved himself to be a great disappointment by placing only 2nd in the world. Hopefully Zach will demonstrate a greater commitment to speech and debate in the future. But for now, here is his speech on unity in Canada. 

Elbows Up Canada

Growing up in Canada, I always had a simple question: what does it mean to be Canadian? We’re quietly proud, we’ll say sorry when you run into us, and we love Hockey. But, when it came to unity, defining who we are as a nation, I was stuck. Because the truth is, unity in Canada was never simple.

Like most colonial societies, Canada was founded in the crucible of conflict, between settlers and Indigenous peoples who were violently displaced and silenced, between French and English armies, between Catholics and Protestants, and I could go on. Each of these tested the fabric of a new nation and challenged the very foundations of who we thought we were. 

For much of our early history, we modelled ourselves in the image of Mother England—its institutions, its values, its manners. Even as we fought bravely through two world wars and emerged as a middle power with global respect, we still spoke with a borrowed accent.

But through every strain, every conflict, every test, a fragile but real sense of unity was forged—not by ignoring the tensions, but by surviving them together.

Then came the age of globalization. With the rise of American culture, Canada’s national identity didn’t evolve—it eroded. Television, music, movies, fashion—it came flooding north. And we let it in. Our young people wore their brands, copied their slang, and sometimes forgot to say “eh.”  At this point, the only way to tell we were Canadian is that we still thought maple syrup was a food group.

We became multicultural, yes—but not necessarily unified. We celebrated diversity in a way few other countries ever had. But this time, instead of building unity through struggle, we drifted into isolation.

Immigrant communities settled in enclaves. Quebec debated separation. Indigenous peoples fought for recognition and justice. Without a clear shared identity, we became a country of separate conversations, speaking louder but listening less. Because how do you unify a country built on stolen land? How do you rally around a flag when the last residential school closed in 1996? When nationalism has led to genocide and war, and unity itself has been used as a tool to exclude?

For a while, I thought we might never be truly united again. That the idea of a shared Canadian identity had quietly disappeared behind polite smiles and vague platitudes.

And then—of all people—Donald Trump reminded us who we are. When he referred to our Prime Minister as “the Governor of Canada,” and joked that we should become the 51st state, something unexpected happened: we stood up.

From Newfoundland to Nunavut, Toronto to Tofino, Canadians of every background pushed back—not with hostility, but with a collective motive. Out of a quiet but powerful sense that this country, with all its flaws and complexities, was ours. And it was worth defending.

And that’s when I realized: unity had never left. It was simply buried under decades of self-doubt. It was uncomfortable to claim pride in a country that has done harm. But true unity doesn’t ignore the past—it confronts it. It owns it. And it grows from it.

That’s why today, I say: elbows up, Canada.

And no, not like the hoards of people at the door, when Walmart opens on Black Friday. I mean “elbows up” the way Gordie Howe meant it—the original Mr. Hockey. He didn’t skate timidly. He came in elbows up, ready to take space, to be seen, to play hard—but fair. It was confident. Iconically Canadian. A warning shot in hockey form.

Not elbows up in aggression, but in confidence. In presence.

We’ve spent too long keeping our elbows tucked in—careful not to offend, afraid to take space. But unity requires space. It requires honesty. And it requires the courage to see our nation as it is, not just as we wish it were.

Canada doesn’t need to be a perfect country to be a proud one. We need to be a real one. One that acknowledges its wounds, and forges forward together.

So no, we are not Britain. And no, we are not America.
We are Canada—complicated, courageous, and finally learning to stand tall, elbows up.