No, You Don’t Have an Accent Either

Let me tell you a story.

I wear the privilege of an individual who escaped the hardships of war. My parents took all 6 of their kids and fled the conflict zone of Sri Lanka to come to the safe haven that is Canada. Our journey was fraught with challenges along the way – poverty, feelings of isolation, and difficulties navigating a foreign system. We worked really hard to create a home for ourselves here. My family was lucky but our story is not unique.

My siblings and I grew up in the Greater Toronto Area – first living in the borough of Scarborough for a short period of time, and then moving to the Town of Markham and residing there for almost two decades. We lived among kindred souls. Our neighbours understood the immigrant experience having lived through their own version of it. My complexion blended in with my peers at school as our skin tone reflected a wide spectrum of colours. The communities we lived, worked and attended school in were ethnic enclaves. It was a beautiful collection of a myriad of cultures, religions, and identities. While I knew that the place my family called home in Toronto was not our original home, I never had the experience of not feeling like I belonged.

I was a baby when my parents packed their belongings and moved to Canada. Having little memory of my motherland, it is Canada that I consider my first home. My identity will always include a dash and “Canadian” as Tamil-Canadian is what best reflects who I am. Most of my childhood was spent in the Greater Toronto Area, I completed all of my education from elementary school to my Master’s degree in Ontario’s public education system, and I began my career here. The challenges I experienced as a child eventually got replaced by now having to navigate the complex world of the workplace. I often look to others for advice on how to develop my career and have done my fair share of coffee chats, informational interviews, mentorship conversations, and informal meetings over the years.

One of these meetings was with someone who was a former senior leader, let’s give him the pseudo name John to conceal his identity, in an organization that I used to work for. I did what I always do – I reached out via email indicating my interest in meeting and I gave a short pitch about why I was the kind of emerging professional that was worth his time to invest in. John graciously accepted, and several weeks later, I’m sitting in his office for our meeting. We had an intriguing chat for about 45 minutes. We talked about my career a little but spent most of our time exchanging ideas on emerging technologies and what workplaces needed to do to optimize their value. We were equally intrigued by each other’s contributions to the conversation and closed off agreeing to meet again.

As John walked me out of his office, he casually said, “It’s incredible that you don’t have an accent at all”. I was taken aback by his comment and all I could muster was, “What?” He proceeded to explain that he didn’t expect me to, “not have an accent” and was surprised that I spoke English so well. Now never mind the fact that I completed all of my education in Canada, I have a bachelor’s degree in English literature and that I get paid to be a ghostwriter for other people, I am not an anomaly in the city that I grew up in.

As per the latest Canada Census report, over 50% of Toronto’s population identifies as visible minorities. In other words, I am just one of many people who look like me residing in the city where both John and I lived and worked. In a metropolitan city that is home to over a million people whose families come from around the globe, there are no accents. We all belong here just the way we are. While I repeated the word “what” as I parted ways with John and exited the building, I wished I had chosen my words more carefully. I wished I had told him, “No, you don’t have an accent either”.