As humble Canadians, we often take our culture for granted…. Or we take it for granted that others pay as much attention as we do. But we forget how large and consequently how uninterested in outsiders, our American neighbours can be. It seems they are sometimes stunned to find that other countries have our own interpretations of American content, or even our own original work, and how powerful those manipulations can be in extending the range and meaning of any creation.
I was at an outdoor folk music festival several years ago, and attended a workshop held on a small stage, featuring 3 American musicians who were covering in tribute the songs of the Oklahoma-born songwriter and activist Woody Guthrie. They were very versatile and original artists, and we were an extremely appreciative audience, the weather being fine and the energy upbeat. The musicians took turns playing a Guthrie composition, and accompanying each other, and for the last number, they began a rousing rendition of "This Land is Our Land, This Land is Your Land." They sang the original version, written by Guthrie almost 70 years ago, with the American place names “… from California, to New York Island…” and we all tapped our feet appreciatively.
As the last chorus began, they invited the audience to join in, and without missing a beat, the all-Canadian, majority eastern-Canadian, audience members began, “This land is our land, this land is your land, from Bonavista, to Vancouver Island, from the Arctic Circle, to the great lake waters… This land was made for you and me.” As we trailed off, the singer-songwriters onstage gaped at us with shocked expressions, their mouths open in awe and respect.
They had never heard our version before. Every youngster in Canada learns “This Land is Your Land” in public school, we all new it like the back of our hands, and it was simply second nature to sing the lyrics that matched our own geography. I suppose we are used to modifying American content to reflect our own situations, but the Americans were absolutely shocked to hear that this song, a landmark in Guthrie's oeuvre and a symbol of their own “liberty and freedom” ethic, could have an alternative interpretation. In awe, they begged us to sing it once more, listening carefully to each word, amazed at the rhyming ingenuity of their provincial neighbours, or maybe amazed at their own blinkered awareness of Guthrie's possibilities.
Either way, it was powerful evidence of the strength of regional recognition, and a reminder that nothing created is fixed in stone, but always open to manipulation, and that that manipulation can give new or extended meaning to our messages.
