As anti-immigrant rhetoric increasingly shapes conversations about who belongs in Canada, a World Sikh Organization of Canada report highlights the discrimination Sikhs continue to face. More than 80 percent of respondents said anti-Sikh hate had increased over the previous five years, while 91 percent of visibly identifiable Sikhs, including those who wear turbans, reported being targeted.
Against this backdrop, AR Paisley’s “Go Back to Where You Came From” confronts anti-immigrant hostility while raising a difficult question: how do we challenge racism without ignoring individual accountability?
As a Canadian Sikh who grew up in Brampton and studied journalism at Toronto Metropolitan University, the song’s message hits close to home.
My turban, beard and appearance have sometimes made me feel as though people judge me before I have said a word.
Even while celebrating my graduation with my parents, I struggled with imposter syndrome, wondering whether someone like me truly belonged in mainstream media. Other experiences have reinforced that feeling.
During a trip to Lake Louise, an older woman congratulated my friends and me for reasons we did not initially understand, leaving us wondering whether her comment was connected to our race. In Toronto, a stranger once called out “Jagmeet” or racist slurs like “Osama,” or “Go back to your country,” as I exited the subway, seemingly reducing my identity to my resemblance to a prominent Sikh politician.
These moments have reminded me how quickly assumptions can replace genuine understanding.
That discomfort is reflected in the song’s provocative opening, which voices racist stereotypes about Indians and immigrants, accusing them of ruining the country, refusing to integrate and contributing to crime. The language is deliberately harsh, forcing listeners to confront rhetoric that reduces people to their ethnicity, accent or appearance.
The WSO report adds important context. Verbal harassment was the most commonly reported form of anti-Sikh hate, experienced by 65 percent of respondents. Nearly 65 percent said hate incidents had significantly affected their mental health and well-being, while more than 70 percent of victims did not report them. Discrimination, then, is not simply an abstract debate about immigration; it can affect people’s everyday sense of safety and belonging.
Sukhman Gill, the turban-wearing Sikh featured in the music video, also contributes effectively to its visual message. His presence helps bring a human face to a conversation too often dominated by stereotypes.
What makes the track more nuanced than a straightforward protest song is its shift in perspective. It describes people working hard to build better lives: a student making the honour roll, an aunt facing abuse at a drive-through and a friend delivering food by bicycle.
These stories encourage listeners to look beyond labels and recognize the ambitions and struggles of people they encounter every day.
But the song also acknowledges that immigrants who commit crimes must be held accountable. The narrator does not excuse his roommate’s serious wrongdoing or deny the consequences.
That distinction matters. Challenging racism does not mean excusing criminal behaviour, just as demanding accountability does not justify stereotyping an entire community.
People should be judged by their actions, not their race, religion or immigration status.
As someone pursuing a career in journalism, I believe representation matters, but so does the willingness to see people beyond their visible identities. Journalism should challenge assumptions, amplify overlooked voices and help audiences understand experiences beyond their own.
Yet it can be difficult to feel confident in your place when you are conscious of how others might perceive you.
“Go Back to Where You Came From” does not resolve every tension surrounding immigration, and its provocative language may make some listeners uncomfortable.
But that discomfort can prompt important reflection: who gets to feel they belong, and why are some people treated as individuals while others are expected to answer for an entire community?
My experiences have taught me that my appearance does not define my abilities, my story or my place in Canada.
We can debate immigration policy, address public safety and demand accountability while still recognizing the dignity of those affected.
Belonging should not depend on whether someone looks, speaks or lives like you. Holding someone accountable should never mean condemning everyone who looks like them.


