It never fails. Every time I meet someone new, and half the time I talk with friends, the weather inevitably comes up. Whether it’s a brief mention or a whole conversation, we Canadians love to discuss what’s going on outside. Sometimes we complain that it’s far too cold, while other times we’re pleasantly surprised by a nice snowfall. Regardless, there’s something innately Canadian about caring a bit too much about the weather.
Winter in particular has always been an essential part of the Canadian identity. There’s a reason we’re called “The Great White North,” after all. Literary figures such as Northrop Frye or the inescapable Margaret Atwood insist that a Canadian is simply someone who’s struggling against the harsh strength of a really bad winter. Such notions recall the founding of this country, when a settler’s biggest fear was a horrible snowstorm and ice, which were at that time pretty much a death sentence.
Despite the alarm when winter arrives-particularly in this city, where our memory for weather seems to last about six months-Canadians like to believe that we’re survivors, skilled at braving our tough climate. Whether it’s massive rainstorms in BC, massive snowstorms in Alberta, or significantly less snowfall in Toronto, we are sure to endure-and complain. It’s what we do.
Over the past few months, though, the weather has been a hot topic for a different reason: this winter, it went berserk. We in Toronto expected snow and got warm temperatures, which didn’t seem so bad. Vancouver, of all places, got more snow than it’s had to deal with in years.
We expect to have to fight against the great enemy that is the weather every year. Each January, winter is supposed to come to Toronto in blinding force. When this doesn’t happen, we’re left confused-and maybe a little scared. We enjoyed the warmer weather earlier this year, but many of us also had a nagging feeling of guilt at the back of our minds. Personally, I’m terrified that I was able to walk to my New Year’s greasy spoon brunch wearing a T-shirt.
As you can read about elsewhere in this issue, the environmental repercussions of global warming and climate change look to be disastrous. But what about the cultural repercussions? Dealing with the Canadian climate is a quintessentially Canadian trial. The changes in weather patterns wrought by global warming have dominated the news and left us feeling as helpless and confused as my grandfather at a hip-hop concert.
Without sub-zero temperatures and shimmering white snow (and the slush that comes soon afterward), what will we have to complain about? Winter is not only one of the things we use to define ourselves (and this year, even those hippies in Vancouver got to join in), it’s also an essential part of how we are viewed by other countries. Not that everyone sees us as igloo-dwelling hosiers, but snow certainly factors into an outsider’s idea of Canada. Like it or not, a cold winter forms the foundation of our national identity, and complaining about said winter is a key building block.
We’d better act soon, folks. Otherwise this Great White North may not be so great, or white, much longer.
