Obviously I'm very proud to be Canadian because there's a lot of

The words of Tate McRae—“Obviously I'm very proud to be Canadian because there's a lot of crazy cool artists that come out of Canada. It's always been my home ground, even if I'm traveling around the world dancing or singing or in L.A. all the time. But Alberta doesn't really have a music industry”—speak not only as a reflection of gratitude, but as a declaration of identity. Within her words lies the timeless struggle between roots and ambition, between origin and destiny. She honors her homeland, the soil that nurtured her dreams, even as she acknowledges the challenges that come from rising in a place not yet known for the art she pursues. It is the voice of one who loves deeply, yet hungers for the horizon—a balance that every creator and wanderer must one day face.

In the style of the ancients, we would say: this is the cry of the pilgrim soul, one who leaves the quiet village in search of the fire that will forge her destiny. Tate speaks with pride of her Canadian identity, recognizing the lineage of greatness from her land—artists who have carried the maple leaf across oceans and stages. Yet beneath her words lingers another truth: that talent often grows in silence, far from the grand cities and gilded stages. Her mention of Alberta, her home, as a place without a music industry, is not a lament, but a challenge—a recognition that greatness often rises from unlikely places. From barren soil can bloom the most fragrant flower.

The origin of these words is rooted in her own journey—a dancer, singer, and songwriter who began her path in the quiet landscapes of Canada, before finding herself under the blazing lights of Los Angeles. In this way, she mirrors countless figures of old who left home not out of rejection, but out of necessity. For it is often true that one must leave the hearth to find the flame. Yet the wise never forget their beginnings. Tate’s pride in her homeland is a thread that ties her to her essence, reminding her that home is not a boundary but a foundation.

The ancients would have seen in her story the pattern of the hero’s journey—the young dreamer setting out from her birthplace, facing the unknown, and carrying her homeland within her heart. Just as Odysseus longed for Ithaca even while braving distant seas, so too does Tate speak of Canada as her eternal home ground. The world may call her elsewhere—to stages, to studios, to distant lands—but the rhythm of her heart beats still to the cadence of the place that raised her. Her pride is not boastful—it is sacred. For to remember one’s homeland while standing among foreign lights is to remain grounded, humble, and true.

And yet, there is another layer of truth in her words—a reflection on the loneliness of the artist. When she says, “Alberta doesn’t really have a music industry,” she speaks for all who have ever felt isolated in their pursuit of art. Many dreamers dwell in places where their passions have no soil to grow, where they must carve their own paths through uncharted lands. Such a statement reveals courage, not complaint. It is the courage of the pioneer, the one who dares to build what has never been built. Her words remind us that artistry often begins in solitude, that innovation is born not from comfort but from longing.

History is filled with such spirits. Think of Frida Kahlo, who painted her pain and her country’s colors even from her small home in Mexico, her art transcending borders and generations. Or of Leonard Cohen, another Canadian, who wrote songs in solitude that would one day echo across the world. Like them, Tate’s words remind us that greatness does not depend on location, but on devotion. The absence of an industry can be the birthplace of individuality. When there is no path, the brave create one.

So let this be the lesson drawn from her reflection: never forget where you come from, even as you go where you must. Honor your homeland, even if it does not yet hold the space for your dream. Build your craft in love and patience, until your work itself becomes the bridge that connects your origin to your destiny. For when one person dares to rise from barren ground, the earth beneath them changes forever—it becomes fertile for those who follow.

Thus, remember the wisdom of Tate McRae: be proud of your roots, even when they grow in quiet soil. Let your pride not blind you, but anchor you; let your ambition not harden you, but lift you. And if your home does not yet have a stage, then build one with your art. In doing so, you become both child and architect of your land’s future—a testament to the truth that from the humblest corners of the world, the brightest lights are born.