SILICON VALLEY - It was a spontaneous enough gesture that didn't seem to
leave anyone embarrassed. One
hundred and sixty-six Canadians in a large circle rose together, put
down their lunch plates and softly sang the
national anthem. Our national anthem, in an American park, three days
before U.S. Independence Day.
Plenty has been written about the brain drain to the United States,
especially pronounced in the field of
technology. But for the record, this past Canada Day in Silicon Valley
many true patriots who'd let opportunity
sweep them across the border proved they hadn't been entirely washed
away.
For the Canadian worker heading stateside, the appeal to relocate to
northern California is especially powerful.
Sun shines 300 days a year down the Silicon Valley peninsula and summer
stretches out for six months.
The region is crowded and the infrastructure overburdened, but it is a
long way from the concrete jungle that
marks Los Angeles.
Silicon Valley highways are better defined by the underground sprinkler
systems and blossoming jasmine and
oleander along their medians than road-rage shootings.
To the north of this technology haven lies Napa Valley, a culinary
Disneyland for grown-ups. Westward, on the
other side of the Santa Cruz Mountains, the Pacific coastline rivals the
beauty of the Maritimes. And three hours
drive east, the Sierra Nevada mountain range boasts giant sequoia
groves, winter skiing and the magnificent
Yosemite National Park.
Given all these regional attributes, it's not surprising there were a
few self-confessed "climate refugees" in the
Canada Day crowd. But 20 cases of donated Labatt Blue led to some honest
soul-searching, and many talked of
moving "home" once their next round of stock options vested. A few
gossiped quite enviously about colleagues
who'd recently parlayed their local success into great jobs back in
Canada.
NAFTA toddlers, born under the Stars and Stripes to parents with
annually renewable work visas, sported the
Maple Leaf. They may not have known what it symbolized, but several
showed an instinctive understanding,
playing in the large ice-filled beer cooler rather than in the warm sand
of the volleyball court.
Susan Chung, event organizer and self-proclaimed "chief moose," found a
trustworthy auditor in the crowd to
legitimize a raffle for a box of Coffee Crisps, donated by a sympathetic
Torontonian who'd heard the distinctly
Canadian treat was unavailable in California.
In the mingling that followed, a few entrepreneurs made "elevator
pitches" to venture capitalists and other
potential investors. Engineers and programmers, some squinting in the
daylight, spoke of 70-hour work weeks
building new multi-billion-dollar network components or creating the
next round of services on the Web.
But ultimately, most of the talk resonated from somewhere far across the
border, on subjects such as hockey,
distant memories of the University of Waterloo, and how to handle state
troopers and other wound-up, gun-toting
Americans.
The picnic proved to be an afternoon of self-recognition in a culture
that moves much too fast to note the
tremendous impact outsiders from all over the world are having on the
area.
The timing was particularly good, given that 10 days later a group of
Canucks would steal Silicon Valley
business headlines with what will become the largest technology takeover
in history, if regulators approve the
deal.
JDS Uniphase Corp., one of Canada's most-valued high-tech companies,
agreed to pay US$41-billion in stock for
San Jose, Calif.-based SDL Inc., a rival maker of fibre-optic equipment.
Since its creation through a merger last year, JDS Uniphase has run its
corporate headquarters in San Jose, but
maintains its largest pool of employees in the Ottawa suburb of Nepean.
Local U.S. media reports said the deal will vault JDS Uniphase to sacred
corporate Silicon Valley ground, right
next to Cisco Systems Inc., Intel Corp. and Oracle Corp. That's high
praise indeed, but none of it is directed at
Canada.
Success stories here are sucked up into the great American dream
machine, regardless of where they originate.
Even worse, many are just ignored.
Overshadowed in the U.S. communications equipment market for years by
Lucent Technologies and Cisco, Nortel
Networks -- one of Canada's other great success stories -- was the tech
equivalent of the third tenor nobody could
name. A multi-billion-dollar Silicon Valley acquisition of its own two
years ago has since helped enlarge
Nortel's U.S. profile, particularly among investors.
But for the foreseeable future, if Canadians choosing to stay in Silicon
Valley want recognition as Canadians,
they're going to have to throw a few more picnics in the park. |