Lögberg-Heimskringla - 04.11.2005, Side 7

Lögberg-Heimskringla - 04.11.2005, Side 7
Lögberg-Heimskringla • Föstudagur 4. nóvember 2005 • 7 DESTINATION: Selkírk Fish-eating goolies Are people still growing up What does being lcelandic mean to people in their 20s and 30s? Tricla Signy McKay talks to her contemporaries in Selkirk, MB Initially when you move to a new place, you want to fit in. In public, you try to as- similate. Being different causes hardship, and, not wanting your children to experience the same horrible feelings, you hide a bit of what you came from. For the first generation it wouldn’t be so bad — your parents are weird anyways and why would you want their ac- cent? When descendants realize that they cannot communicate in what they feel is their right- ful language, they feel hurt and cheated. Not wanting their chil- dren to feel the same hurt, they try very hard to get that culture back. The original Selkirk Town, located 30 km northeast of Winnipeg, was named after the fifth Earl of Selkirk, Thomas Douglas, who established the Red River Settlement in 1812. In 1891, approximately one- fifth of the residents of Selkirk Town were immigrants from Iceland, but most of the popu- lation was born in Manitoba. Selkirk, also known as “The Catfish Capital of the World,” now a city of 10,000, is currently going through the biggest business boom in its history, with an unemployment rate of 0% and many businesses expanding. At the turn of the century, Selkirk’s Icelandic commu- nity was easily identifiable. A group of 700 Icelandic-bom immigrants chose this predomi- nantly Scottish/Native commu- nity as their home. They arrived with their books and their de- termination lo make a life here. Though the spellings of many surnames changed to easier-to- pronounce anglicized versions, most people held on to both their language and traditions. An Icelandic Lutheran church was formed, and later “Brúin,” Selkirk’s chapter of the Icelandic National League. The church continued on with lcelandic services well into the 1960s and the INL chapter meetings and minutes remained Icelandic until about the sarne time. These groups allowed Icelandic people to get togeth- er and discuss, in their native tongue, both the hardships and joys of living in Canada. As a child, my mother’s neighbourhood was filled with sumames like Skagfjörð, Pe- tersson, Olsson, Gislasson, Walterson, Stefanson, Jonsson, and Halldorson. (I had to tell her to stop after she named ev- eryone on the two blocks clos- est my house. I think this list does go on forever.) She grew up with people whose firsl names were Oli, Lauga, Laufi, Jafeta and Ingib- jörg. There was always time for coffee if visitors popped over and there were always Icelan- dic foods at Christmas and on special occasions. There was no question that she was of Icelan- dic descent. Her first language was Icelandic, her mother spoke Icelandic and everyoné around her carried on the same sorts of traditions. I recently spoke to quite a few people in my age bracket to find out what it was like to grow up as a kid of Icelandic descent in my own town (obvi- ously I couldn’t remember). When I grew up here, I was “Canadian.” The focus was on everyone being the same. As a little kid I suppose hearing grandmothers referred to as “baba” or “amma” wasn’t unlike hearing “nana” or “gran- ny.” It didn’t sound ethnic, just a term of endearment for a fam- ily member. It wasn’t until that first school project about “where your family came from,” with the maps and flags and tradi- tional foods, that I really be- came aware of my Icelandic background. Of the people I spoke to, most had had the same sort of realization somewhere between grades six and 11. We could not, however, pinpoint any major differences between being ethnically Icelandic and being “regular Canadian.” In the 1991 census, 420 Selkirk-area residents claimed their ethnic b.ackground was in whole or in part Icelandic. With little to no migration and the population remaining relative- ly the same, the 1996 census shows 2070 residents claiming ‘lcelandic ’ ? the same. As the last óf the first gen- eration of Icelandic-speaking immigrants passed away and our direct link to our ancestry disappeared, it seems to have become more important for us to investigate and claim our background. Many of my friends who are of Icelandic descent have never been to an Icelandic event and felt jealous that they were left out of what seems like a really cool community. Some, like my friend Mona, have just started to study their genealogy online. My friend Courtenay had been to the Icelandic Festi- val in Gimli many times grow- ing up, but felt like an outsider or imposter. She didn’t feel like she was Icelandic enough. After going on the Snorri Program and learning about her family’s heritage and the his- tory of Icelandic emigration to Canada she says it was more like hanging out with friends than watching something you weren’t a part of. Since being part of the Snorri Program Courtenay has been a member of an INL club, she’s assisted building the re- cent festival parade float for the Lögberg-Heimskringla, and has attended an INL convention. Having been introduced into the community, and now knowing so many people with similar backgrounds and inter- ests, it’s hard to go to the Ice- landic Festival without bump- ing into more than a few people she already knows. It’s more difficult to identi- fy the Icelanders here now. We don’t speak Icelandic and our surnames are a mix of Scottish, Cree, French, Ukranian among others. We all love to read and write, tell stories and sing. We eat pönnukökur, rúllupylsa, vínarterta and hardfish. We can now jokingly identify with the racial slurs that hurt us in the past. I asked my friend Kevin about growing up Icelandic. “I didn’t,” he says, “I grew up here,” (Canadian just like me) but he proudly proclaims him- self a “fish-eating goolie.” As a group, we don’t really do any- thing that is particularly “eth- nic,” but we are becoming more interested in finding out what it is that makes us who we are. PHOTO: DAVID JÓN FULLER Charlie the channel catfish, mascot for the City of Selkirk. Well known familyowned lcelandic producer of high quality knitted goods www.giofi.is Vísít us for Chrístmas ín Markervílle, Nov. 4,S& 6th or it the New lceland Herítige Museum, Nov. *25,26 & 27th * Check out our ímported products online www.icelandic-goods.com One ofour main suppliers is GLSFI 1-866-314-4423 or 780-481-3502 e-mail: snorri@icelandic-goods.com _ ^. JjzeJana www.icelandnaturally.com Visit us on the web at http://www.lh-inc.ca

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