As July 1 passed this year, the mood across Canada was anything but united. Once a day of unfiltered celebration, Canada Day has become a mirror reflecting our shifting national identity, generational divides, and growing political fault lines. The question isn’t just how we’re celebrating—but why we’re celebrating, or even if we should be at all.
In the past decade, Canadian pride has undergone a rollercoaster ride. The pendulum swung dramatically in 2015 when then–Prime Minister Justin Trudeau declared Canada a “postnational state” with “no core identity.” To many, it felt like a declaration that national pride was passé. Then came the 2021 reports of unmarked graves near former residential schools—news that shook the nation’s conscience. Flags flew at half-mast for months, Canada Day festivities were cancelled in many cities, and many Canadians started to question what kind of country they really lived in.
Though some of those early reports were later clarified—no remains have been found at many of the sites that were excavated—the damage was already done. For a while, pride in Canada became something you whispered, not shouted.
But everything changed again in late 2024. Amid fresh economic tension with the U.S. and inflammatory comments from President Trump about tariffs and Canada becoming the “51st state,” a fresh wave of patriotism swept across the country. Newly elected Prime Minister Mark Carney tapped into this frustration with a muscular message: “Canada strong.” The Maple Leaf began appearing everywhere again—from billboards to bumpers—and National Flag of Canada Day was celebrated with renewed energy. For some, it felt like Canada was finding its spirit again.
But not everyone is on board.
The growing secessionist movements in Alberta and Saskatchewan tell a different story. These provinces, long at odds with federal policies on energy, gun control, and COVID-era mandates, are more alienated than ever. People like Katherine Kowalchuk, a lawyer from Calgary, aren’t shy about it. “I disassociated from Canada a while back,” she says, now openly supporting Alberta independence. “The old Canada doesn’t exist anymore.”
And she’s not alone. A significant number of Western Canadians believe their voices are ignored, their industries unfairly targeted, and their way of life misunderstood by Ottawa.
Yet others are doubling down on their love for Canada, warts and all. Karen Messier from Montreal sees this moment as a time to lean in. “Every day is Canada Day now,” she says, proudly supporting Canadian-made products and domestic tourism. For her, the pride in being Canadian hasn’t diminished—if anything, it’s grown stronger in response to external threats.
It’s hard to say who speaks for Canada anymore. Is it Brett Laurie in B.C., grounded in faith and tradition, who celebrates Canada Day with family, song, and barbecue? Or is it Tyler D’Arcy, also from B.C., who stopped celebrating after Kamloops but still believes in the liberal values that define his Canada—compassion, diversity, and equality?
Even within Alberta, the split is obvious. While Kowalchuk dreams of independence, fellow Albertan Dan Steiger rejects that thinking. “I think we need to stop trying to do our own thing,” he says, calling for unity and truth over division and propaganda. He’s not alone in wanting the country to move forward together—even if many have stopped believing that’s still possible.
In Toronto, the story is more muted. People are busy. Life goes on. Fireworks still spark the sky. For many, Canada Day is simply a time to gather with friends or family, not a political statement. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe the beauty of Canada has always been its diversity—not just in ethnicity or culture, but in thought, in attitude, in how we show love for this land.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth: national pride is no longer a given in Canada. According to an Angus Reid poll, only 43% of Canadians today say they are “very proud” of their country—down from 78% in 1985. That’s not just a statistic. It’s a reflection of a country searching for itself.
So, what does it mean to be Canadian in 2025? The answer depends on who you ask. For some, it’s about family and faith. For others, it’s about accountability and justice. For some, it’s frustration and disillusionment. And for a growing number, it’s about carving out a new path altogether.
Maybe we don’t need a singular identity. Maybe Canada’s strength really is in its contradictions. But if we want to keep this country together, we need to talk about these divisions—not hide them under fireworks or slogans. Canada is at a crossroads. The question now is whether we can find enough common ground to keep walking forward—together.
