The Martlet

Being a celebrity in Canada is kind of like being a big beaver in a small river — all eyes are on you and, let’s face it, you might look a little out of place. Maybe it’s because the brain-drain sucks all our big name celebs down south. But these days, it seems like you don’t have to do a whole lot before you can say “I’m big in Canada.”

Canadians seem to admire everyone, from rock stars and actors to athletes and even activists. The idea of the hometown hero seems to rule supreme in our home and native land as we brag that our best friend’s cousin plays for such-and-such team, or we went to school with whichever MP is involved in the current scandal on Parliament Hill.

But why?

Is it because we need to feel represented to the rest of the nation by our best and brightest? After all, Canada is a huge country, full of sleepy towns and bustling cities that are spread out far and wide from one another. We’ve got to represent our community somehow.

Enter the Canadian celebrity. What better way to foster local pride than to be able to say that we helped Nelly Furtado get her start or, if you’re from Cole Harbour, N.S., that your brother lent Sidney Crosby some hockey tape at the game one morning?

Our friends eat that stuff up. For better or worse, the importance that our celebrities have taken on in our society has more to do with how they make us feel than what they actually contribute to society.

If Chad Kroeger wants to drink and drive after punching a fan out, we explain it away as him being from Alberta and the fan (rightly) told him his music sucked. Such bad behaviour is of little consequence to a Canadian that feels proud that Nickleback sells out stadiums around the world and calls a tiny Alberta village home.

After all, we Canadians have been struggling with that over-looked complex for years. The U.S. and Britain have always dominated the culture scene with bombast and glitz. We’d call Britney Spears our own if she were only out of rehab long enough to accept an honourary Canadian citizenship (or if she could find Canada on a map).

The trouble is, just as those talented people in our communities eventually move to the big city to pursue their dream careers, often those who have made it in Canada take the first chance they get to work their way into Hollywood, New York, or some deep-pocketed American team. For a while, the Canucks they left behind beam proudly at their former neighbour’s success and eagerly wait for the celebrity to come home and tell all about the big time.

Then the visits stop and the next thing you see is Mike Myers at the 2009 White House Correspondent’s Dinner. Our celebrities leave us in the lurch and go for citizenship where the taxes are lower and they feel close to the action. We sometimes even forget they used to be humble Canadians.

Luckily, there are still Canadians whose careers might never launch into the stratosphere of celebrity-dom — nor might they want it to. Most Canadian celebrities stay close to the communities that inspired their creativity in the first place. They’ve created a following through MySpace or Facebook, exciting local crowds or getting a break on the CBC to get where they are, and they give back by sticking around.

We keep our ability to identify with them because their portrayal of the Canadian experience is most authentic and we venerate those who can show it off proudly in ways we wish we could.

In these days of social connectedness, where everyone knows a celebrity of some sort, what it means to be a celebrity is becoming increasingly subjective. But that doesn’t matter so much. If you can represent a piece of who we are to the friends we know in the next suburb or city, then you’ve earned the right to be a cherished Canadian.

And there’s something much more satisfying in that kind of recognition than the chance to be an American Idol any day.