Sikhs in Brampton, Canada: Difference between revisions

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It's a carbon-copy image of the neighbourhoods they left behind in the Punjab.
It's a carbon-copy image of the neighbourhoods they left behind in the Punjab.


But first- and second-generation Sikh immigrants will tell you that more meaningful markers -- the ability to get a good job, access to higher education -- reveal distinct differences between Sikh neighbourhoods in the Greater Toronto Area and the Punjab.
But first- and second-generation [[Sikh immigrants]] will tell you that more meaningful markers -- the ability to get a good job, access to higher education -- reveal distinct differences between Sikh neighbourhoods in the Greater Toronto Area and the Punjab.


It was that universal immigrant ambition to earn a better life that brought the first significant wave of Sikhs from the Punjab to southern Ontario in the late 1960s and early 1970s. There were a handful of Sikhs back then, clusters that settled around their then scarce places of worship, called Gurdwaras.
It was that universal immigrant ambition to earn a better life that brought the first significant wave of Sikhs from the Punjab to southern Ontario in the late 1960s and early 1970s. There were a handful of Sikhs back then, clusters that settled around their then scarce places of worship, called Gurdwaras.

Revision as of 15:47, 12 May 2005

It's Sikh and flourish Brampton thrives as a Little Punjab, but behind the similarities hard challenges await


For Sikh newcomers driving through pockets of Brampton for the first time, the landscape warrants a double take.

Plazas lined with Punjabi stores, Gurdwaras open for worship, and older men, wisps of white hair peeking out from under their turbans, chatting on park benches.

It's a carbon-copy image of the neighbourhoods they left behind in the Punjab.

But first- and second-generation Sikh immigrants will tell you that more meaningful markers -- the ability to get a good job, access to higher education -- reveal distinct differences between Sikh neighbourhoods in the Greater Toronto Area and the Punjab.

It was that universal immigrant ambition to earn a better life that brought the first significant wave of Sikhs from the Punjab to southern Ontario in the late 1960s and early 1970s. There were a handful of Sikhs back then, clusters that settled around their then scarce places of worship, called Gurdwaras.

Now about 100,000 Sikhs live in Ontario, most of them around the GTA.

The thick concentration has raised the community's profile in certain municipalities, like Brampton and parts of Mississauga.

"I think the experience of the Sikh community is a really good example of different minorities in general," said Ramandeep Kaur Grewal, a 32-year-old Sikh and executive member of The Sikh Centennial Foundation, a national advocacy organization.

The community has gone through the growing pains of establishing themselves, she said, providing for their families, educating their children and preserving their culture.

"The foundation is laid," said Ms. Grewal. "Now we're in that real growth phase ... we're making our presence felt here in Canada."

Sikhs have fruitful businesses in the GTA, and are developing land into plazas that cater to their growing community. They have been elected to different levels of government, and the new Brampton Hospital's emergency department will bear the name of Guru Nanak, the founder of the Sikh religion, in honour of the community's contributions.

There are more than a dozen weekly Punjabi community newspapers in the GTA, plus a daily. The area carries significance back home, too, with Punjabi ministers scheduling stops when they travel through Canada.

Ms. Grewal's family moved to Scarborough in the 1970s when she was a toddler. Her parents were part of the wave of educated middle-class Sikhs who foresaw obstacles to prosperity in the Punjab and took a gamble on Canada.

Subsequent waves of Sikh immigrants left India in the 1980s because of the simmering religious and political climate. A steady stream continues today.

Many Sikhs took jobs that revolved around Toronto's Pearson International Airport, said Gurdish Singh Mangat, a Sikh real estate agent based in Brampton for nearly 20 years. Settling in the surrounding area made sense. That's how the older, more established Malton community started.

It has branched out to newer neighbourhoods in Brampton and Mississauga as people continue to gravitate to places that look, sound and taste like home.

"When you come so far from a country and you find someone from your village or your town, even if you have never met [in India], it's the familiarity, it's the comfort," said Mr. Mangat, 51, who is president of the Peel Multicultural Council.

That social support system goes a long way to ease the transition of immigrants, who get a rude awakening when they move to Canada and can't find work in their own fields, said Mr. Mangat. "I have seen doctors driving cabs. Nothing wrong with driving cabs or washing dishes..." trailed off Mr. Mangat. It's not the Canada they were sold overseas, he said. "Most of them feel cheated."

Ms. Grewal's parents encountered employment difficulties and quickly abandoned notions of getting work in their professions. They took jobs at factories to support their young family.

Eventually the couple opened up their own business, a banquet hall in Brampton.

Like them, there are others.

The Chatwal family started the chain of Bombay Palace restaurants in the GTA in 1979, and now have locations in Brampton, Scarborough and several around the world. Mr. Mangat's Indian law degree didn't translate into opportunities here, so he started a string of businesses before going into real estate. Bealt Singh Chana, an Amritdhari Sikh, used his background in mechanical engineering to start a profitable manufacturing business in the mid-'70s that specialized in parts for the automotive industry. The 64-year-old is considered one of the most successful businessmen in the community.

"Sikhs are a very enterprising people. We have a great sense of spirit," said Ms. Grewal.

"You will find Sikhs will seek out challenges to overcome them," she said.

Her parents passed their hard work ethic on to their children. "For us, not going to university, not getting A's [at school], it was never a choice," said Ms. Grewal, a lawyer at a Toronto firm.

And so, the first generation of immigrants are seeing their sacrifices pay off as children become successful lawyers, teachers and engineers.

Those children are raising their own families now, and marvel at how times have changed.

Ms. Grewal remembers being the only "brown" child in her classrooms for much of her youth.

"My son now goes to a public school in Brampton where he was one of 12 Punjabi students in his classroom," she said. "That's a huge change."

She admits raising her five-year-old son and younger daughter in a neighbourhood where they are not the odd ones out, where they're as likely to hear Punjabi as they are to hear English at school, is appealing.

More than 20,000 people attend North America's largest Gurdwara, at the corner of Dixie and Derry roads. More Gurdwaras are slated for construction, including one being developed by Mr. Chana as part of a multi-million-dollar plaza at the corner of Gore and Ebenezer Roads in Brampton.

Dr. Ranvir Sharda, a Hindu Punjabi who owns the community newspaper Nagara, thinks that although sticking together has allowed the Sikh community to make political and social gains, it could have gained more economically by opening up to the mainstream Canadian culture.

Others argue that the strength in numbers is pushing the Sikh culture more into the mainstream.

Non Sikh-Canadians are visiting restaurants like the Bombay Palace, and walking out with cookbooks and addresses of shops that sell specialty spices. The Dixie Gurdwara opens its doors to high school students of different faiths several times every month for a tour.

Ms. Grewal offers her favourite bit of proof.

Not long ago she took her son Mehtab swimming at a community pool. Another mother saw the boy's long hair being unwrapped from his headscarf and confused him with a girl.

The woman was quickly corrected by her four-year-old blond daughter: "He's a Sikh, mom. Don't you know Sikhs have long hair?"

National Post 2005

http://www.canada.com/national/nationalpost/news/toronto/story.html?id=7662b6e6-68e7-4f0a-903f-79595b665939