My first real act as a Canadian citizen was to vote, and nothing could be more meaningful
This First Person column is the experience of Anusuya Datta, who lives in Saskatoon. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
When I look down at the ballot in front of me, the pencil feels heavier in my hand than it should. For many, the act of voting is just a formality, but for me, marking my X feels like my first real act as a Canadian since I became a citizen two months ago.
I’ve voted before, but many things about this experience of voting in Saskatchewan’s provincial election feel different to me.
Even the list of candidates before me looks short — nothing like the long, complex ballots I’d been used to seeing in previous elections.
I grew up in India where democracy is woven deeply into the fabric of the nation. Elections there are grand spectacles, with a festival-like atmosphere — a blend of tradition, politics and mass mobilization. Streets are abuzz with election posters, the air fills with fervent political debates and campaign trucks blare slogans. I remember standing in long queues to vote under the sweltering sun and hearing the distant hum of political sloganeering blaring from nearby shops. It was chaotic but exhilarating. We would gather around the TV with family and friends, closely monitoring voting patterns.
Meanwhile, elections in Canada seemed quieter and understated and yet are just as powerful in their significance. The contrast between these two worlds lingered in my mind as I walked to the nearby school that served as my polling station. It struck me there was something poetic about the location — schools are places of learning and growth, and in many ways, this vote was part of our journey of growth in Canada.
There was no rush, no urgency. Just a quiet, unassuming building welcoming the citizens to vote. The calmness felt almost meditative.
CBC spoke with four 19-year-olds about their first time voting in Saskatchewan’s provincial election.
School had finished for the day and excited children spilled out, their laughter and chatter filling the air. This was novel to me. In India, schools close on the election day, the sheer magnitude of the event requiring all available resources. But here, life went on with its own rhythm, the election process seamlessly blending into the everyday routine.
I made my X on my ballot with a deliberate stroke, feeling an odd sense of importance. It was such a small act of putting a pencil to paper but it carried so much weight. I wasn’t just casting a vote for a candidate; I was casting a vote for our future and for the province that had embraced us. I was making my mark as a Canadian.
Deciding to move to Canada had been one of the toughest decisions my husband and I had ever made. Part of it was driven by a desire to escape the fast and relentless daily grind in India. We longed for fresh air and a quieter pace of life. But it also meant leaving behind everything we had ever known.
My husband moved to Canada ahead of us, and I stayed behind in India with our child. I’ll never forget the anxiety that hung over us when the pandemic hit. Borders closed, flights cancelled and I feared we’d be separated indefinitely. But we made it. We arrived in Canada on July 1, 2020 — Canada Day, of all days. It felt like fate, as though the country was welcoming us on the very day it celebrated its own identity.
Four years later, my family and I took our oath of Canadian citizenship. As I clutched the certificate, my heart swelled with pride and disbelief. Years of planning, paperwork and waiting had culminated in that moment. We were officially Canadians.
But the real sense of belonging didn’t hit me until this week when I cast my vote in Saskatchewan’s provincial elections — my first as a citizen of this country. I hadn’t expected to feel so emotional about it till this moment.
On my way out, I picked up a sticker that said, “I Voted,” peeling it slowly and pressing it onto the back of my hand.
Walking out of the school, the air felt fresher than before and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter.
While my Indian roots will always be a part of me, I felt every inch a Canadian in that polling station. It was a personal rite of passage, a moment that felt like a bridge between two worlds. I realized that no matter where we are in the world, the act of voting is powerful — it transcends borders and cultures, connecting us to the future of the place we call home.
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