Opinion: I've embraced Quebec, but has Quebec embraced me?
For nearly a decade, I've adopted Québécois culture and celebrated its traditions. But some days I wonder, what more do I have to do?
I moved to Montreal a decade ago as an international student, not knowing a soul. Somehow, against all odds, this city became home.
I’ve left twice — once for Toronto in search of better career opportunities as an anglophone, and once to travel the world as a digital nomad — but every time, Montreal pulled me back.
I have visited more than 50 countries, and yet nowhere else, not even the city of my birth in India, provides me with the sense of belonging I find here.
In 2019, just before one of my departures, I was cycling with a friend who was visiting from Toronto. We were enjoying a trip through the Plateau and along the Lachine Canal when I blurted out, “Gosh, Montreal is the best city in the world; I’m so sad to be leaving.”
My friend fell so in love with the city that she moved here soon after I returned.
Montreal doesn’t just capture you; it makes you yearn for it.
But there’s a paradox. While I speak French and identify proudly as Québécois-Canadian, I’m not sure whether Quebec has truly embraced me.
Nearly four per cent of the world’s population lives outside their country of birth. That represents millions of stories like mine about leaving the familiar behind, not always out of necessity, but sometimes for self-discovery or the thrill of adventure.
What the other 96 per cent might never grasp is the complex dance of belonging that follows — the constant negotiation between who you were, who you’re becoming, and who others see you as.
Migration isn’t necessarily about escape or ambition; for some, it’s about finding where their authentic self can flourish.
Canada was built on multiculturalism — a place where people are meant to feel free to be themselves. But structural discrimination quietly persists, woven into systems we often take for granted.
When a stranger’s first question is, “Where are you from?” — simply because you look or sound different — it’s clear that our efforts toward diversity and inclusion haven’t gone far enough or are being undone by regressive narratives we can no longer ignore.
No matter how much I insist I’m a local, I’m still seen through the lens of my background, and it’s exhausting.
I could live comfortably in India or even move to Europe, where I spent five months travelling last year. Yet I stay, because Montreal is the only place that feels like home.
I’ve learned Quebec’s history, adopted its culture and celebrated its traditions. But some days I wonder: What more do I have to do?
This isn’t a complaint; it’s a narrative often missing from mainstream discourse. Too often, the immigrant story in Quebec is told through the lenses of assimilation or resistance. But there’s another story — one of people who build communities, add to Quebec’s cultural fabric and make this place stronger. Our voices deserve to be heard as loudly as those who were born here.
A sense of belonging is not acquired only through ancestry; it can be acquired as a result of choices made.
I chose Montreal. I decided to invest my time, creativity and energy here. I chose to stay, even when a different path could have been easier.
To me, that is the most authentic form of belonging. If Quebec wants to thrive, it must embrace those who choose to belong, not only those who belong by default.
And that embrace must happen in a way that ensures everyone feels included and empowered.
For nearly a decade, I’ve spoken Montreal’s language, shared its rhythms, adored its summers and liked its winters, too — well, most of the time.
The question isn’t whether I’m Québécois enough; it’s whether Quebec is prepared to fully welcome those of us who have already embraced it.
Because this is my home now, and I’m not going anywhere.
[Source: The Montreal Gazette]
