There's a story we tell about Calgary. It excludes so many of us

This column is an opinion by communications professional Esmahan Razavi, who moved to Calgary, left the city, and then came back. For more information about CBC's Opinion section, please see the FAQ.

A couple of weeks ago, I took a trip to Toronto — the city where I spent my teens and early 20s. Each time I go, I get the same question: "Why are you still living in Alberta?"

After over a decade in Calgary, the question chafes. I love living in Calgary, and I choose to stay.

But that question hit me in a different way this time. I came to a depressing and uneasy realization: despite being a proud Calgarian, I still breathe more easily in Toronto.

On the one hand, this feels like a betrayal to Calgary, the city I call my home. And on the other, I don't want it to be true — it means that, as much as I might deny it, a part of me feels like I'll never truly fit into what it means to be a Calgarian.

I don't think I'm especially paranoid or precious for feeling that way. I've lived all over North America, and on other continents, but for a city with such a constant flow of newcomers, I am struck by how routinely I hear people proclaim they're born-and-bred Calgarians, as though being born into a specific longitude and latitude is an accomplishment.

It feels like a loaded message: those of us who packed up our lives and chose Calgary will never be as truly Calgarian as those who were born here. 

That kind of exclusion is reflected in the story we tell about Calgary.

There's a perception that everyone outside of Calgary has an outdated, incorrect view of this city. But people who live here hold those views, too, and so many of them are the loudest voices telling our story. 

The truth is, Calgary is two different cities at the same time. One is a corporate city whose greatest success lies in a vision of the past — and if we just hold on, the empty office buildings and quiet downtown streets will one day return to their former glory. 

In this version of Calgary, boards for major organizations are predominantly white and male, and when progress is made it's typically for white women, as though racialized individuals don't exist. A significant portion of the racialized population is relegated to a single urban quadrant that suffers from an infrastructure deficit and a tendency to be blamed for everything, from COVID rates to gang violence.

In this city, our brand is corporate and cowboy. If you don't identify with these things, you don't belong. 

But there's another Calgary. My Calgary.

It is a vibrant, diverse and dynamic place, where we are not only ready to embrace the future, but also to be the ones who build it. My Calgary is Prairie Winds Park, where teenagers play basketball in their traditional dress and hear dozens of languages in their school halls.