What Canadian Marketing Looks Like Through My Immigrant Eyes
Two years ago I arrived in Canada from Ecuador with a suitcase full of plans and a head full of expectations. Like many newcomers, I was excited, nervous and curious about how everything worked; from the weather and transportation to the people, the food, and the way brands communicated. Everything was new and my eyes were wide open, absorbing every detail. Life in a big Canadian city was full of contrasts. The streets, the signs, the ads, the architecture, it all felt polished, organized and unfamiliar.
At first, Canadian marketing seemed beautiful. Everything looked emotional and inclusive, at least on the surface. I kept hearing words like diversity, representation and belonging. But I wasn’t sure if I was actually part of that diverse audience everyone kept talking about.
I started noticing things that made me feel disconnected. A winter campaign that assumed everyone had memories of skating or skiing. Ads with cozy cabins, hot chocolate by the fire, hockey games with friends. Beautiful, yes, but far from my reality. I didn’t grow up with snow, and those images made me feel like I wasn’t part of the story. Then there were the feel-good immigrant success stories. Inspirational, but far from the messy, confusing and sometimes lonely reality of starting over.
Where were the people like me? Not just in the visuals, but in the tone and stories that reflect uncertainty, cultural gaps and the small victories of building a life from scratch.
Back in Ecuador, marketing is louder, more emotional, sometimes chaotic, but very real. TV and radio still matter, but digital is growing fast. Social media, especially Facebook, Instagram and TikTok, is where brands connect with people. Humor is bold, messaging is clear, and campaigns reflect the mood of the moment. It’s not always perfect, but it feels alive.
In Canada, marketing is more structured, with clear language, legal regulations and bilingual requirements. But sometimes it feels too careful. Like brands are trying so hard not to offend anyone that they forget to be real. And in trying to include everyone, they risk connecting with no one.
That doesn’t mean Canadian brands are doing it all wrong. Many are trying. But there’s a big difference between talking about inclusion and truly living it. Real inclusion means going beyond a checklist. It means thinking about who your message is really reaching and how it makes them feel.
What I’ve learned is that the ads that stick are the ones that feel honest. The ones that recognize not everyone shares the same memories or starts from the same place.
I’d love to see more brands involving newcomers in the creative process not just as a target audience but as part of the team. Ask questions. Listen to stories. Collaborate. When you talk with us, not just about us, the message becomes more real and meaningful.
As someone still learning to call Canada home, I believe marketing can help people feel like they belong. But only if it’s intentional. Only if it reflects the real, layered journey of being new.
I don’t expect brands to be perfect. I just want them to try with curiosity. Because when someone feels seen and a little less alone, that’s when marketing becomes more than communication. It becomes a connection.
By Daniela Brazzero
