What it means to be Canadian: A Latina woman’s reflection

A Canada Day reflection from one human to another

Growing up in Toronto opened my eyes to the extraordinary beauty of multiculturalism that defines Canada. My closest childhood friends were daughters of Jamaican and Portuguese immigrants, and together we created our own tapestry of belonging that transcended borders and birthplaces. This is the Canada I know—where identity isn’t singular but beautifully complex.

Though I wasn’t born on Canadian soil, I consider myself a first-generation Peruvian-Canadian. This country raised me, shaped my thoughts, and even influenced how I dream. When I speak Spanish now, I often find myself translating from English—a small but profound reminder of how deeply Canada has woven itself into who I am. My son was born here, as were my nephews and nieces. We are part of a continuing story, each generation adding new chapters to what it means to call this place home.

Canada isn’t perfect—no country is. We have significant work ahead, particularly regarding Indigenous peoples and reconciliation. These conversations aren’t comfortable, but they’re necessary. Acknowledging our imperfections doesn’t diminish our love for this country; it deepens our commitment to making it better.

My career has been driven by this belief in progress through understanding. At CBC, I witnessed firsthand the power of storytelling as a catalyst for positive change. Stories have the ability to build bridges between communities, to help us see ourselves in others, and to inspire action. Now at Dejero, a world-leading critical connectivity company founded right here in Canada, I get to work alongside some of the most talented people in technology from around the world. It’s a reminder that Canadian innovation reaches far beyond our borders.

I’ve had the opportunity to travel the world extensively, and yes, Toronto is home—but I have never experienced the multiculturalism and clear expression of pride, whether it be gender, religion, culture, or identity, like I have in Canada. During my time as a journalist, I covered countless crime stories and traveled to sketchy places that would make most people nervous. Yet here in Canada, I’ve always felt safe. The people are good and kind and true Canadians—whether they were born here or not.

I consider myself a humanist—and yes, it feels a bit odd to write that, but it’s true. This means I use critical thinking to ensure my decisions serve the greater good. I don’t live on this earth alone; it’s home to millions of others—humans, animals, insects, and countless forms of life that deserve consideration. This perspective shapes how I move through the world and how I define my responsibilities as a Canadian.

On this Canada Day, I invite you to pause and be present. Appreciate what we already have: our stunning parks and forests that take your breath away, the rich cultural foods that tell stories of journeys and dreams, the diverse people who make our communities vibrant, and yes, even our history—both the triumphs and the darker chapters that remind us how far we’ve come and how much work remains.

Being Canadian as a Latina woman means carrying multiple identities with pride, understanding that belonging isn’t about where you were born but about the love and commitment you bring to making this place better. It means recognizing that our strength lies not in uniformity but in our diversity, not in perfection but in our willingness to grow.

So today, whether you’re first-generation or tenth, whether your family’s story began in the Maritimes or the Philippines, whether you speak English, French, Spanish, Mandarin, or any of the hundreds of languages that echo through our cities—you belong here. Your story is part of the Canadian story.

To mami and papi Cuervo, you chose well. The sacrifices were worth it.

Happy Canada Day, from one human to another. May we continue building a country worthy of all who call it home.