The Necessity in Showing "Imperfect Immigrants" | Tina Yong | TEDxSemiahmooSecondary

Have you ever judged the people around you based on how much they contribute to the GDP? Have you ever thought, I wonder what my babysitter did this year to inflate the economy's output? Hopefully your answer is no. Unless you really do think of people that way, which either makes you a really dedicated economist or just really weird to be around. If we can agree that most of us don't see others as economic figures, what if I told you that chances are you've actually been applying this standard to around a quarter of the Canadian population? Tell me if you've heard this argument. Immigration is good for Canada because it boosts the economy, since immigrants go on to become productive members of society like lawyers, doctors and engineers. This is clearly an argument endorsed by our government, because 6 in 10 immigrants are selected for their positive economic impact. And it makes sense if you look at the statistics. Over the next two decades, over 13.4 million Canadians are projected to stop working. But only 11.8 million will finish school and join the workforce, which is why the government needs to bring in more immigrants to fill this gap. A 2019 report by economist Pedro Antunes found that without immigration, real GDP growth would drop from 1.7% to 1.1%. And although this 0.6% may not seem like much, it actually amounts to more than $1.4 billion per year. The Bank of Montreal's chief economist even projected that Canada could have beaten the US in growth this year, with increased immigration being a key factor. Now, before we all nod in approval and say and amused, huh, here comes the kicker. While this may seem like a great argument, its impacts on the immigrant community are anything but great. It is an argument that has boosted the image of immigrants at the expense of their own youth. And if this is an argument that you believe or have used to justify immigration, I hope that by the end of my talk, you'll be able to see things differently. I immigrated to Canada when I was 10. And amid my chaotic immigration journey, one thing seemed clear. This moment came shortly after my family and I first arrived in Canada. As soon as our plane hit the ground, we became strangers to a foreign land. Disconnected, unaccustomed, and anonymous. We dragged behind heavy luggage into which our entire lives were tightly packed. And by entire lives, I mean all the soy sauce she insisted we bring because she wasn't sure if they would have any here. And on my way out of the airport, I caught this tall advertisement towering over me on the wall. It portrayed an Asian woman in a doctor's coat, tending to a satisfied patient. Her neat, slick back hair and sterile surroundings exuded this sense of prestige. And the only word with which I could describe her smile would be professional. The tagline read, immigrants, the future of our economy. I gazed upon this billboard for a moment. I'd known enough English by then to see that it was addressing a group of people I'm a part of. People who packed up their existence in 25-inch suitcases and stepped into a different dimension, either chasing something or fleeing something else. I also knew that this should be a future version of myself. It was like the ad served as an appropriate welcome banner. The country was telling me that I was taking up space here, and my form of rent would be plastering on a professional smile and becoming the future of the economy, a word I first thought meant spaceship. Quite the welcome party if you ask me. No balloons, no cake, just one big daunting billboard laying out my economic obligation to the country. Well, it appeared that this obligation wasn't just internalized by me. Without needing to say it outright, my parents modeled the behavior they wanted me to emulate. They kept quiet in public spaces, not wanting to draw attention to themselves, apologized at a capacity that somehow exceeded that of natural born Canadians, and acted with a nervousness that was so out of character for their naturally expressive selves. And they've been hard working their entire lives, but I'd never seen them work quite as hard as when they came to Canada. It was like that's all they wanted people to see of them. And these expectations also trickle down to me. On my first day of school, when most other kids were being told to have fun and not to pick their nose in public, the advice I had gotten was to stay out of people's way and keep quiet when I was confused. It became clear to me then that appearances were a top priority now. We couldn't be risked being seen as a burden or nuisance. Our survival depended on it. And during that time in my life, I felt like I was being managed by an invisible PR agency. My every move being monitored and moderated. It's been 10 years since we initially moved here. And I'd say we assimilated with an astounding degree of success. I learned how to speak English, maintained my spot on the student honor roll, and invested myself in a host of extracurriculars. And when asked what career I'd pursue, I would answer with a response that's sure to bring tears of joy to every Asian mother's face. I'm going to be a lawyer. But behind this mirage of success was a dark cave of anxiety. You see, for every honor roll I made, there was an equal number of breakdowns over what would happen if I didn't make it. Every extracurricular I pursued was pushed by the fear that I wasn't already doing enough. And my dream career wasn't really a dream. I didn't really want to be a lawyer, but felt as if that career would earn me the most legitimacy in a society that seemed to only want me here so long as I can contribute. During the past few years, I've done everything in my power to live up to the immigrant archetype. Someone who's ambitious and useful, and most importantly, on track to produce value for this country. I felt as if getting derailed or messing up would be costly. As if it would mean that I was making the immigrant community look bad, or that it would somehow be rejected by this new world. I was often reminded of the expectation set for me just five minutes into my Canadian journey. One that was only reinforced the media I consumed. In TV shows and movies, immigrants played characters who are abnormally disciplined. People didn't question their qualifications and diligence so much as expected them. And this only upped the ante on my growing feelings of inadequacy. Was I failing the criteria needed to pass as an immigrant? What happens if I can't pay the debt that I owe to this country? What surprised me was that this isn't just my story. It's one belonging to countless immigrant youth who come here with high hopes, only to find out that the country had even higher hopes for them. Through talking to young and predominantly Asian immigrant students in my community, I found that they faced a similar pressure to succeed in order to compensate for their immigrant status. They were also aware of the stark contrast between two perceptions of an immigrant population. One that labeled them criminals and leeches, and the other which saw them as hyper productive workers. And in being chased to go as far away as possible from the less favorable perception, they gained acceptance in their communities and neighborhoods. But it came at the cost of them feeling like they must be extraordinary students and extraordinary workers just to be treated like everyone else. What was also damaging was all the statistics about how much immigrants can add to the economy. That pro-immigrant advocates tend to boast. Although it made them feel helpful and useful, it could also be dehumanizing. The problem with justifying immigration with statistics is that it reduces the immigrants to just that. Mere numbers and economic tools instead of human beings with their own ambitions and struggles. The portrayal of immigrants as just these worker bees who can come in and patch up the Canadian economy is problematic because it suggests that our utility matters more than our personhood. Moreover, immigrant youth had internalized that standard and constantly judged themselves based on how productive they are and will be. And when young people already faced so much pressure and insecurities as is, it meant that immigrant youth also had to deal with feeling like they must be the best and do the most just to have a place here. It's like running in a race where your finish line is miles ahead of everybody else's. As you can imagine, this was often alienating and exhausting. Now the bad news here is that there aren't many opportunities in our lives to make huge changes that will immediately liberate the immigrant community. I mean, I don't know how much your immigrant friends would appreciate it if you went up to them tomorrow and said, hey man, I don't see you as a bag of loonies and toonies and I'll appreciate you for who you are. They might just look at you like you're a bit of a loony. So you can't change society in its entirety, but you are a part of it, which means that by changing your own views, you're also altering the big societal picture too. Start by seeing the issue of immigration through more lenses than just the economic one because you shouldn't need to hear a bunch of statistics before you appreciate us. Appreciate us for our cultural diversity that we bring. The main reason why there's probably Chinese, Mexican, and Japanese cuisine all within a five mile radius of your home. Appreciate us for our stories and experiences, which constantly makes living in Canada so interesting. And if nothing else, appreciate us because we're people with hopes and dreams who love this country, just like you. I can't help but wonder what would have happened to me that day if I didn't see that billboard. It's hard to know for sure, but I definitely wouldn't have felt like my acceptance here was conditional on how much economic value I produced. Maybe I could achieve more without being held back by insecurities. Maybe I could simply just exist here without every day feeling like I had to earn my place here. And now would be a good time to ask yourself another iteration of that same question from earlier. How would you feel if somebody were to value you based on your GDP contributions? I want you to keep that answer in mind the next time you hear that great argument about how much money immigrants can add to the economy. Thank you.