I'm choosing to leave for the U.S. for a unicorn job. Does that make me a traitor to Canada?

This First Person column is the experience of Alice Nelson, who is a dual citizen of Canada and the U.S. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ. 

In January 2025, I got a call to go for a job interview at the University of Texas at Arlington (UTA). They were looking for a professor to lead a new theatre arts degree program.

My friend Claire said, "That's a unicorn job!"

"What's a unicorn job?" I asked.

"It's a job where they're looking for someone very specific and you are that unicorn." 

A typical tenure-track job will get 100 applicants. I was feeling like one very, very lucky unicorn.

I had to make a difficult choice: stay in my tenured job teaching theatre in Windsor, Ont., where my career was at a standstill or move to the U.S. to start over. It was a choice further complicated by the trade war initiated by Donald Trump and his claims that Canada should become the 51st state of the U.S. 

A big move 

Seven years earlier, I was living in Calgary and had been working contract jobs as a theatre artist and educator. On my 40th birthday, I landed a tenure-track position as an assistant professor in the school of dramatic art at the University of Windsor. 

My partner, Oly, and I had community and family in Calgary. I wasn't sure if he would want to go with me. But when I told him I got the job, he smiled and said, "I guess we're moving to Windsor."

We packed up and drove across the country with our two dogs to start our new life in Ontario.

Fast-forward to July 2024, I achieved tenure and became an associate professor. That same month, University Players, our students' mainstage, which gives them the opportunity to apply their training, was shut down. The six staff members who taught students the production side of theatre lost their jobs in the department. The school also decided to halt new enrollment in the acting program.

In September, a guest speaker at UWindsor's Senate repeated over and over: "Nobody is coming to save us" — referring to Canadian universities. 

And it's true — every day there's an article about programs being cut at another Canadian university or college due to underfunding from provincial governments, the impact of tuition freeze and a recent federal cap on international student permits (which has hit Ontario hard). Yup, nobody is coming to save us.

I felt like one of the violinists on the Titanic. 

"Gentlemen, it has been a privilege playing with you tonight."

Concerned for my future, I started job hunting. I'm a dual citizen of the U.S. and Canada, so I was looking in both countries, hoping to find something in my field.

Theatre faces deep cuts

Over the next year, I made it a goal to foster opportunities for students who had lost a ton of performance opportunities. I directed a radio play version of A Christmas Carol, organized a Thriller flash mob, ran an improv club and directed Kristen Thomson's comedy, The Wedding Party, in our smaller studio theatre.

During the hiring process with UTA, I was asked why I wanted to leave a job that I loved, where I had tenure and was thriving. To which I answered honestly: Our mainstage was cut, the acting program was not accepting any students next fall and our university had (at the time) a projected $30-million deficit.

A couple of weeks later, I was offered the job.

Then, things started to change politically between the U.S. and Canada. Trump started making tariff threats to Canada and goading that it should be the 51st state. I found the rhetoric ridiculous, and like others, felt an upswell in Canadian patriotism. The response through protests and social media was also "Elbows up," encouraging Canadians to get ready to fight. Given the context, my parents were worried about me moving to the U.S., and friends expressed their concerns.

On top of that, my partner is not a dual citizen, and we aren't married. That meant he couldn't move with me easily.

While my contract was being drawn up, I had a month to agonize over the decision, visit an immigration lawyer and convince my parents that I was a unicorn.

On my overanalyzed pro and con list, some pros were: I could work in my field, direct plays and there would be no shovelling. 

Some cons were: Living apart from my partner until we get married and get him citizenship, leaving my students before they graduate, the lack of universal health care, targeting of the 2SLGBTQ+ community in the U.S., restrictions on women's bodily autonomy, racism and deportation, etc. This list could go on and on. Also, no Tim Hortons.

The idea of being a Canadian in the U.S. in 2025 is complicated, and I feel guilty leaving at a time when I want to back my country. I've had some people give me a hard time about moving to the U.S. One person called me a traitor. Am I? 

I want to stay in Canada, but I also want to support my family financially. I have to remind myself and friends who don't want me to move that not all Americans are bad. A lot of them didn't vote for Trump, and my mom's side of the family in the U.S. are Democrats. 

I joke about the lack of Tim Hortons because I fear telling the truth in public will get me flagged at the border, and I won't be able to cross. Yet, I'm American, and as a citizen, I can't be denied entry. 

After a lot of thought, I took the job.

The Canadian part of me doesn't want to leave, but the American part of me is relieved I can work in my field in the U.S., as there are no opportunities in my field in Canada right now — they are disappearing.

Well, I better get packing. This unicorn, Canadian at heart, is riding off into the sunset with her saddlebag of theatre books, two dogs, a wedding date set and hope for the future.

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