comprehension and Growing Self-Esteem

Overbearing Mother In Law - comprehension and Growing Self-Esteem

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Self-esteem is a phrase that has come to mean a lot of separate things. In some ways self-esteem  is a self graphic phrase, but it has also come to be a controversial idea with many separate meanings.  We know self-esteem is prominent to have, but have also been taught that it's inherent to have too much self-esteem. There are also many derivatives of self-esteem we talk about that may confuse us when we try to define self esteem; things like self-confidence, self-worth, self-assurance, self-love, self-acceptance, self-assertiveness, and self-responsibility.

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Overbearing Mother In Law

"To trust one's mind and to know that one is worthy of happiness is the essence of self-esteem."- Nathaniel Branden.

For our purposes we will define self- esteem using three of my popular definitions I learned from reading Nathaniel Branden:

-           Self-esteem is the condition of the mind.

-          Self-esteem is the immune theory of consciousness.

-           Self-esteem is the prestige we have with ourselves.

Just like the condition of the body is a consequence or succeed of many inter-related causes, so it is with self-esteem. If we wish to growth our health, we can only do so by working on it indirectly- by working on our diet, our exercise, our mindset, our environment. So it is with self-esteem. If we wish to growth our self-esteem, we can only do so by working on it indirectly- by working on those things that conduce to it.

Just like a body with a weak immune theory is branch to the many germs in the environment and suffers from the effects of disease on a more frequent and more severe level than a body with a strong immune system, so a person with low self-esteem is branch to the "germs" of consciousness such as doubt, discouragement, judgment, avoidance, denial, and addictions and suffers from their effects on a more frequent basis and a more severe level than person with a healthy self-esteem.

As for the prestige analogy, to have a prestige with ourselves implies that there are separate aspects to us- there is the part of us that thinks, feels, and behaves, and there is the part of us that "witnesses" or "judges" the thoughts, feelings and behavior. This is essentially true- there is the ego and there is the Spirit or Soul. You might also think of it as the "self" (small s) and the "Self" (capital S). The Self is the true self- it is "God Within", our divine nature and potential, our inherent immortal being- that which existed prior to our birth and will exist after our death. The self is the physical or covering level manifestation that is temporary in nature. It is the physical body, its world is the five senses and the emotions, thoughts and beliefs that flow through it. Both self and Self are prominent parts of who we are. But for this analogy, self-esteem can be seen as the prestige the self has with the Self.

Without a healthy self-esteem as a foundation, work done in any other areas of personal or spiritual growth will finally not last. If self-esteem is too week, there won't even be the basic motivation to try to heighten or evolve at all. If we don't feel basically worthy and deserving of happiness and growth, no matter what we do, we will manage to self-sabotage ourselves so that our external reality matches our internal reality of what we believe we deserve. Just like we don't have to be in tip-top physical shape to begin a program of exercise, we don't have to have super healthy self-esteem to begin a program of personal or spiritual growth.

The Two Major Parts of Self-Esteem

There are two major parts to self-esteem:

1)      Self-Worth: feeling worthy to be happy

2)      Self-Confidence: feeling determined in our potential to think, cope and adapt to life's challenges

We'll cover each of these two major parts in their own article- because they are deserving of a more perfect understanding. But we can see that both sides are important- we must feel both worthy and able to function in this life and to find happiness and meaning. They are two sides of the same coin. Without feeling worthy, no matter how able we may think we are, we will self-sabotage our progress. Without feeling able, no matter how worthy we feel, we will procrastinate and avoid required operation to bring about our growth and we will feel overwhelmed by life and "stuck" as we watch life pass us by. As we growth our perception of our worth, we also growth our perception of our potential and as we growth our potential by taking on challenges and overcoming them, we also growth our perception of our worth. So the two sides act as whether a virtuous cycle of upward momentum into spiritual and personal growth or a vicious cycle of downward spiral into depression and stagnation. Just know that no matter what direction you happen to be spinning at this time, you can turn it around- which is good and bad news I suppose. But that's life.

Eight Practices for improving Self-Esteem

There are also some prominent life "practices" that conduce to a healthy self-esteem. I use the word "practice" often because it's such a great word to enumerate a process of working on some skill consistently, over time- like practicing the piano or the cello. It isn't something we just decide to do and we're done. Like practicing the piano, we start where we're at and small by small growth our proficiency and artistry by practicing. We make lots of mistakes, but we don't give up or feel embarrassed- we just try again with no anger or shame or even anticipation of perfection because- it's just practicing. Some days of practicing we make great progress, followed by days of seeming setbacks, and most days seem like disposition without much of a noticeable convert at all. But over time, every occasion spent practicing contributes to the comprehensive level of proficiency and artistry that can manifest through us. I like to think of all of life as practicing- we're practicing to be good human beings, mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, friends, enterprise people, citizens, etc. So- here are the practices that conduce to a healthy self-esteem:

1)      The custom of living consciously

2)      The custom of self-acceptance

3)      The custom of self-responsibility

4)      The custom of self-assertiveness

5)      The custom of living purposefully

6)      The custom of living compassionately

7)      The custom of living with integrity

8)      The custom of living selflessly

Each of these practices is worthy of their own article, and in due time it will be done.

Is Self-Esteem a Natural Birthright?

Some well meaning people in your life may have tried to teach you that self-esteem is a birthright, something we have only to claim by repeating affirmations or mantras. Others may believe that self-esteem is a gift that parents or others give children by telling them how much they are loved and affirming how great they are. These beliefs are based on half truths, and as such are non-productive.

While it is true that we all have inherent worth and unlimited inherent as children of God, that inherent must be brought forth from the realm of unrealized inherent to the realm of actual reality through private choices. While it is true that parents and others can have an impact on a child's self-esteem, self-esteem cannot finally be given to you by whatever but your Self- it must be earned and maintained through private choices. Just as the condition of the body requires the construction blocks of health- good inputs and habits in the form of nourishment and exercise, so the condition of the mind (self-esteem) requires the basic construction blocks outlined above. The right use of consciousness is not hard-wired in to us, it does not come automatically. Rather there are conflicting tendencies of selfishness (from the self) and selflessness (from the Self) and the ever present element of private selection associated with private responsibility.

I see both a healthy body and a healthy mind as major life-long accomplishments against the ever present forces of entropy (dis-order). But just like it is harder to get from being out of shape to being in shape than it is to verbalize being in shape, so it is harder to get from low self-esteem to high self-esteem than it is to verbalize high self-esteem. This is the basic principle of inertia. It's inspiring how the basic laws of physics apply to both the body and mind as well as to our physical universe. As we'll see throughout our whole journey of spiritual and personal growth, the basic theory that govern the natural world also govern the world of our own bodies and minds. They are not just similar or applicable, they are one and the same.

 What Does healthy Self-Esteem Look Like?

Can you see self-esteem? Yes you can. Just as you can see whether a body is basically healthy or basically sick by seeing at it for signs of condition or sickness that manifest themselves in the physical form, so you can see whether a person's self-esteem is basically healthy or basically sick by seeing at the physical manifestations of self-esteem.

The following table summarizes some of the graphic characteristics or external expressions of healthy self-esteem and unhealthy self-esteem:

- healthy Self-Esteem

- Unhealthy Self-Esteem 

-Eyes are alert, inspiring and focused. A face that is relaxed and has good skin tone, a relaxed jaw and neck.

-Eyes are cloudy and darting. Face, jaw and neck are tense.

- Good posture, stands erect, eyes seeing forward. Looks people in the eyes with ease. Ease of movement and spontaneity reflecting that there is peace rather than war going on inside.

- Poor posture- slumping, hunching. Head and eyes downcast. Avoids direct eye contact, voice is timid. Awkward, stiff movement. 

- Relaxed and graceful walking gate, purposeful, but not hurried or overbearing or halting or dragging.

- Tense and stiff. Hurried and frazzled. Overbearing and aggressive walking gate or slouching, halting, timid walking gate.

- Ease of talking of both accomplishments and shortcomings with directness and honesty because the self-esteem is independent of either.

- Boasting, comparing oneself to others- whether for real or negatively. Self-esteem is dependent upon how one "stacks up" against others. 

- Comfortable both giving and receiving praise or appreciation. Doesn't criticize or demean others or self.

- Uncomfortable giving or receiving praise or appreciation. Overly self-critical or significant and demeaning of others.

- Open to receiving criticism and feedback- actively seeks feedback and acknowledges and fixes mistakes. Self-esteem is not tied to an image of being excellent or even excellent.

- Avoids whenever inherent getting feedback from others, resents feedback or criticism when it does happen. Seeks to hide or deny mistakes and blame others for results that are separate than desired.   Self-esteem is tied to self-image of perfectionism or to what we think others think of us.

- Open to and inspiring about new ideas, experiences and possibilities. Flexible as to how things should be. Doesn't get upset when things go differently than planned.

- done and inflexible to new ideas, experiences and possibilities. Gets upset when things don't go as planned. 

- Language uses determined words of gratitude for the past, peace in the present and trust in the future. Even in conditions of stress, there is a sense of dignity and harmony language and trust that all will work out for the best.

-  Language uses words of regret and resentment for the past, exhaustion and intimidation in the present and fear and anxiety for the future. In stressful conditions the "woe is me" comes out in language. 

- Speaks in terms of experiencing joy and happiness. Seeks self-expression and is driven by joy.

- Speaks in terms of avoiding suffering or pain. Seeks self-avoidance is driven by fear. 

- Doesn't avoid facing up to weaknesses or mistakes. Not involved with self-justification. "I am the problem, therefore I am the solution."

- Avoids facing up to weaknesses or mistakes, seeks self-justification. "It's not me that's the problem, it's _______".

You may have noticed a pattern in the above table. healthy self-esteem is centered, grounded, very much the "middle road" whereas unhealthy self-esteem can manifest itself in whether the manic or the depressive state depending upon the private or the circumstances. On the depressive side, low self-esteem shows up in expressions of timidity, shyness, self-demeaning talk and a "stuck" state of small action. On the manic side, low self-esteem shows up in aggressiveness, in competitiveness, in being overbearing, bossy and controlling- things that on the covering might be mistaken as signs of high self-esteem or high self-image, but are for real signs of an unhealthy mind (low self-esteem). 

Can You Have Too Much Self-Esteem?

I don't believe so. It would be like asking "can you have too much good health?" You can have too much ego dominance of Spirit or self dominance of Self- but as we've already explained, that is for real a indication of illness of too small self-esteem, not too much. If we understand self-esteem to be the condition of the mind, we see that condition is all about permissible balance- about being centered, grounded, properly functioning and in harmony. Extremes on whether side are unhealthy.

People with high self-esteem are not driven to make themselves look good than others and they don't quantum themselves against others. Their joy is in being who they are, not in being good than person else. They listen first and when they speak it is with compassion and encouragement.

Just Do It Today!

It's my aim to have every article I write cease with some operation you can take today to put the theory discussed in the article to custom in your life. Otherwise, it's just another article that doesn't for real convert much if whatever for you and that would be a waste of both your and my time and effort.

So today, take a few moments to enumerate the table of what healthy self-esteem looks like, only this time, be compassionately honest with yourself. Have your Self be the coach of your self. Ask your self the following questions:

- "Based on the theory outlined in this table, on a scale of 1-100, how healthy is my self-esteem right now?"

- "How do I exhibit signs of unhealthy self-esteem in my life? Do I tend more toward the manic or the depressive?"

- "Am I willing to take up daily practices that will heighten the condition of my self-esteem?

The goal here is awareness, not perfection or solving all our problems- just being more aware of how unhealthy self-esteem tends to show up in our lives- so we can see it when it's happening instead of being blind to it. This awareness is a significant first step, because we can't heighten what we don't think needs improving. On the other hand, we might be all too aware of our unhealthy self-esteem. If that is the case, the goal is not to let the self demean and belittle itself even more, but to accept what is now and know that it doesn't have to stay that way and by taking on the discrete practices that conduce to healthy self-esteem, we can and will heighten our self-esteem.

For me, when my self-esteem gets "sick"- when the condition of my mind deteriorates, I tend more towards the depressive side. I assess myself negatively to others I think are accomplishing more than I am. I see people my age or younger that I perceive have more of something than I do and I can start getting down on myself. When I do receive praise, I tend to diminish it or not riposte it as real. "No, really, it's not all that, I'm just an amateur." I also tend to avoid seeking feedback from others, or confronting issues head on.

Everyone is a small different, and we all have work to do to heighten the condition of our mind. Again, the prominent thing at this stage is to come to be more aware, more known of how we exhbit syptoms of "sick" self-esteem. Then we can consideration it when it's happening and take a step back and watch it happen- seeing it for what it is. From this position of increased detachment, or increased witnessing, we can begin to do something about it, instead of just blindly reacting and not being aware of what's for real going on.

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Growing Up Ukrainian In Toronto

Overbearing Mother In Law - Growing Up Ukrainian In Toronto

Good morning. Now, I found out about Overbearing Mother In Law - Growing Up Ukrainian In Toronto. Which may be very helpful to me and also you. Growing Up Ukrainian In Toronto

I was born in Toronto in 1936. I lived above a hairdressing and barber shop run by my mum and father, an aunt and two uncles, at Queen and Seaton streets, in Toronto. The smell of fingerwave explication and the unique odour of a permanent wave still trigger an eruption of memories of playing in the shop. I spoke no English until I went to Duke of York social school, nor did I need to. Playing on Seaton St., I wasn't aware that English existed. There were adequate Ukrainian families on the road that it was like a tribal village or circle of tents in the desert, so oblivious were we to the surrounding population.

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Overbearing Mother In Law

Our Ukrainian society was so safe that I could play on Seaton St. All day while my parents worked. If I didn't come home for lunch it hardly mattered. I simply ate with all the other kids at the home were we happened to be playing. Warm, wizened old babas shrouded in black seemed to be everywhere.

On Sundays and feast days, the Ukrainian tribe trudged to the Holy Eucharist Ukrainian Catholic Church on King St., near the Don River. Today, forty-five years later, when I exit the Don Valley parkway from the Richmond St. Ramp and pass over the previous site of the church, I'm flooded with memories of weddings, plays, christenings and religious celebrations. I swear the smells of incense, wax and the stale odour of the basement hall are still there twenty years after the church was demolished. I sometimes still hear the priest's deep booming voice chanting Hos podi pomelui as he swings the cadillo of smoking frankincense on a golden chain.

At eight, I survived the terrors of Saturday Ukrainian school where I was threatened with life in eternal hell if I didn't agree to come to be an alter boy. I remained steadfastly opposed under relentless pressure from two large nuns. My parents were never able to get me to return to Ukrainian school after the nuns forced me to try on the alter boy robes to show me how gorgeous I looked in them. They promised me a life in heaven where, as one nun said, "You can have an apply any time you want one." I can still see her bulbous, scrubbed face framed by her white habit as she leaned close to mine and whispered this holy secret.

When I was five, I was hospitalized with a serious case of strep throat. No one understood me as I whined and complained in Ukrainian and my condition deteriorated. Frustrated, my parents whisked me out of the hospital, vowing they would never speak Ukrainian at home again. They never did, except when Ukrainian visitors came by from the old neighbourhood. I moderately became aware that not all Canadians spoke Ukrainian.

I never realized what a poor learner I was until just recently. After my dad's death, I came upon some of my old report cards from grades four and five among his documents. report cards then contained only rank in class, one branch after another; no grades, no marks, just rank in class, and a section at the lowest to indicate the number of students in the class. I noted that there were 44 students in the class and my rank for the schoraly subjects read 44, 43, 38, 41. While I was never required to repeat a grade, my parents were upset when the school wanted to put me into a special schedule for slow learners. But it was wartime and the placement never materialized.I've learned since it takes a second-language learner seven to ten years to advent the level of his peers in the capability to use English. My poor reports in grade four represented my functional level after five years of learning English. By the end of grade eight, after nine years of English, my grades were adequate to gain admission to, and ultimately graduate from, Upper Canada College. Later, I completed B.A. And M.Ed. Degrees from the University of Toronto.

I am amazed at how long it takes to learn and understand a lanaguage well adequate to compete with one's peers, even when one is born in Canada. The streaming of children of newly arrived immigrant groups into concluding programs or vocatinal programs repeats itself over and over again.

Neither my mum nor my father ever learned to read or write English. There were no newspapers or magazines in our home. I never had a story read to me nor do I recall being told any stories. Goldilocks, Winnie the Pooh and Hansel and Gretel became known to me only as an adult, and there are innumerable references to children's literary characters that crop up in daily conversation that pass right over me. I remember two books that came into the house. One was a tattered old book of poems by the Ukrainian patriot Taras Shevchenko. The other was a second-hand book on the diseases of the eye - a curative book my father bought for my older brother Walter. He was told to read it because he was going to be a doctor, just as I understood that I was unbelievable to be a lawyer. I never saw whatever pick up either book. But my father constantly proclaimed the importance of education. He never went to school in the Ukraine but he was thought about that his sons would make up for his lack of schooling.

My father and eleven silent partners bought a beer parlour, the Riviera Hotel on King St. Near Sherbourne. Our house moved in upstairs, and my mum and father ran the hotel singlehandedly. Frankly, it was a whorehouse and a hangout for the legendary Mickey McDonald gang. My father was granted a temporary three-month licence on the condition that if he could clean up the prostitution and get rid of the gang, he would get a permanent licence. I watched many a fight straight through the banister posts, and I'll all the time remember the night my father locked the Mickey McDonald gang inside the hotel until the police arrived. He stood defiantly at the door, bloodied, shouting in his thick accent, "You wouldn't leave when I asked you; now you stay till I let you leave!" He got his permanent licence.

Life started to decide down a bit. Like clockwork, my father opened the hotel doors every day at noon. The workers from the Christie Biscuit facility over the road poured in for lunchtime brews. One gentleman stood out. He wore a black homburg hat, a black overcoat, a black suit and black tie. Every day he ordered a draft, opened up his newspaper and read for about twenty minutes, concluded his beer and left. One day my father, in his broken English, said, "Sir, you look like smart man. My son is in grade eight. I want to send him to good school. The best in Canada. Can you tell me good school?"

The man didn't like being disturbed. Abruptly, he replied, "One of the best schools in Canada is right here in Toronto. It's called Upper Canada College." The newspaper snapped open between them."Where is this school, sir?"

"On Londsale Road," came a curt reply from behind the newspaper. My father arranged to make an application for my brother Walter to attend the school. In time, my father received a letter that Walter was not accepted.

Towards the end of June, as my father delivered the ritual draft beer, the man in the black homburg lowered his paper and said, "By the way, did you ever apply to have your son attend Upper Canada College?"

"Yes," my father said, "but they say no."

This piqued the gentleman's interest and he questioned my father further. At his request, my father rummaged around in his cubbyhole of an office and produced the letter. One sentence said: "We do not feel your son would fit in well here." The man asked my father if he would still like to send his son to Upper Canada."Sure, if you think it's good school, I send!" my father replied.

He asked my father if he could keep the letter for a few days, and then he left. About an hour later, the headmaster from Upper Canada College arrived in the men's parlour of the Riviera Hotel to apprise my father that an occasion had just come up and the college would be delighted if Walter would accept the vacancy. The man in the black homburg turned out to be a governor of Upper Canada College, who took time out from his law custom to enjoy a beer and a quiet read at lunch. Though my father could ill afford it, we three Diakiw boys began fifteen years of roaming the hallowed halls of Upper Canada College. What a strange quirk of fate! What a bizarre shift in cultures! My five years at the college were a blend of joy, pleasure, boredom, humiliation and anger. I reveled in the sports and other extra-curricular opportunities available there. Despite the strong loyalty I still have for the College, the appalling boredom and monotony of my classes hardly justified its first-rate reputation. Parents paid exorbitantly for the reputation, and students didn't dare inquire the teaching staff. Yet in many ways, away from the school, I acquired status. When adults learned about the school I attended, they gave me an unwarranted elevated social status, not unlike the deference they might have shown to an Oxford or Harvard graduate.

Until I entered Upper Canada College, I never realized how Ukrainian or, rather, how non-Canadian I was. Attending the college exposed the socio-cultural hierarchies to which I had been oblivious. For me, this privilege was not without its price. In 1957, two years after graduating from Upper Canada College, I served in the Royal Canadian navy's summer training schedule (Untd) for officer cadets. I arrived at the Officers' Mess in Montreal, shouldered my duffle bag to my assigned quarters and introduced myself to my roommate, Milton Zysman, who was stretched out on his bed reading. "What kind of name is Diakiw?" he asked."Ukrainian," I said."Ah! another Black man," he boomed. I looked at him - stunned - as lights flashed in my mind and memories tumbled and unfolded like a kaleidoscope. I had never opinion of it that way, yet he had exposed a central truth about the way I felt and the experiences I had had. What did a Ukrainian and a Jew have in coarse with a Black man? Why did I find it so easy to identify with that statement? While the differences in experiences were vast, we had all known intolerance, prejudice and second-class status. For Milton and me, this status was confirmed by law. Our parents had immigrated to Canada at a time when the rulings under the Immigration Act of 1923 classified European immigrants as favorite (northwestern Europe), non-preferred (eastern Europe, together with the Ukraine) and special Permits Class (southern Europe and all Jews except British subjects, regardless of their nationality). The day that I arrived at the naval base in Montreal, I no longer spoke or understood Ukrainian. I was born in Canada and I had never visited the Ukraine. I had had no relationship with the Ukrainian church since the age of ten. I belonged to no Ukrainian club or organization, famed no Ukrainian holiday or festival. I was practically not a Ukrainian at all, except that my identity was defined and affirmed for me by English Canadians. They defined the group to which they had thought about I belonged, and that group was somehow inherently inferior.

I was not aware of this inferior status until I went to Upper Canada College, where I was confronted with the impenetrable wall of white Anglo-Saxon Protestantism. I don't recall being insulted personally, apart from one French teacher. He normally kicked and pushed me out of my seat and onto the floor while shouting how I was born out of my mother's deep black Ukrainian swamp.

Otherwise, I was treated as an equal and fully suitable into school life. No door or occasion was concluded to me. I was suitable by my classmates as one of them. And yet I felt like an alien. The culture of the college was English social school. This tradition was so highly guarded that the school all the time imported an English headmaster to certify that these central values were maintained. (A few years after I graduated, the school appointed its first Canadian headmaster.) In being accepted, I came to learn how my culture, my parents, my lifestyle, my past were not acceptable. I believe that I hid this knowledge well from my classmates - they just never knew. As such, they revealed their feelings and attitudes. Even today I can't share with my close friends from those years the subtle and unconscious distinctions they communicated to me. They wouldn't remember, or would advise that I was overly sensitive - I'm sure they just wouldn't understand. The distinctions were relentless: ethnic jokes, the derision about the way ethnics talked or dressed, their language about immigrants - "those bloody Dps are ruining this country" - the belittling of other cultures - "the only cultural achievement of the Ukrainians is the decorated Easter egg." A remark about an Italian , a jew or Hungarian painted me with the same brush. They suitable me as one of them, but when they joked about ethnics, they defined me and it belittled me.

At the college, we were trained to emulate allowable Englishmen. We were taught Latin and the classics. We committed to memory, while daily Church of England prayers in the chapel, such patriotic English hymns as "Jerusalem" - "Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land." I learned about Empire and about all the "pink bits" on the map. straight through the Upper Canada College Cadet Battalion's affiliation with the Queen's Own Rifles, I learned of that regiment's gallant history in creating, defending and protecting the Empire. Prince Philip, our royal patron, made periodic visits to the school to affirm our relationship right to the top. My classmates and I learned about power, and that power was in the hands of English Canadians; we were trained to be allowable English Canadians. Many of those same classmates dominate in every corridor of power today.

This was not an environment in which I was able to talk proudly about my heritage. I retreated and assimilated as fast as I could. I was very ashamed of my background. I was particularly embarrassed about my parents. Compared with my friend's parents, mine seemed ignorant and crude. Not one classmate ever met my parents or visited my home while the five years I attended the college. I visited in their homes but not until the end of grade thirteen did I request any friends to mine. Only then did I begin to realize that despite the differences in culture and wealth, my parents were among the best.

To me, my mum and father were largely without prejudice. (My wife maintains that I delude myself.) But the one ethnic group that bore the brunt of slurs and castigation by my parents was that of English Canadians with English accents. My mum all the time felt embarrassed and humiliated in their presence. When one of us put on "airs", acted overbearing, pompous, opinionated or domineering, they would say "Don't act like a 'Bronco.'" A "Bronco" was an English person, and in our house it was the most scathing insult you could make. As a youngster I never understood this hostility. But at Upper Canada College and in the years that followed, I began to understand the impertinence of "the dominant culture." I came to understand and sympathize with angry Jews who stereotype gentiles, with Blacks who lash out against whites, with radical feminists who demolish men. Reverse discrimination, the slow-brewing reaction to inequality, is often accompanied by anger and hostility. I remember when my older brother Walter was dating an English girl my mum warned me not to marry a "Bronco" because "whenever you have a fight she'll throw it in your face that are not a real Canadian." (All three of us married "Broncos.") How many times will I hear "Why don't they just come to be Canadians?" uttered in dismay and disappointment by a Wasp who understands what a Canadian is. They want us to be like them.

Even a friend, who lives in Metropolitan Toronto where the majority of residents are from a non-English-speaking background, when discussing a draft of this memoir asked me, "Do you feel more Ukrainian or more Canadian?" The depth of misunderstanding revealed by this inquire staggers me, yet it typifies the suspicion and misunderstanding that English Canadians have of immigrants. Even my father, a Ukrainian patriot, born and raised in the Ukraine, a man who loved his legacy passionately, loved Canada foremost. He thought about it an honour and privilege to be a Canadian. He would not have understood my neighbour's question. It's like asking man if they are more white or more Canadian.

I still struggle to operate and understand my own prejudices. Though I have few remaining traits normally connected with belonging to a cultural group, such as language, religion or customs, my pride in my Ukrainian roots runs strong and deep. I somehow feel connected to the men and women in sheepskin coats who placed the west in endless waves. I still somehow feel that a Ukrainian Cossack dance is my kind of dance.

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