My half-suppressed Canadian years, my whole childhood and youth, rose like a corpse from the bottom of the sea to confront me.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I have great, fond memories of Canada. I feel that one day my bones will more than likely end up there.
The seal hunt has made me ashamed to be a Canadian.
Canada was my whole world and my whole reality, and now I meet people who've never been there, and it's like, 'You've never been to my whole world?'
Another turn in my life happened when I took on the Canada Council.
I love being Canadian. I think growing up in Canada gives you a world perspective that I certainly enjoy.
My childhood memories include a time when the government confiscated my family's possessions and exiled us to a camp in the B.C. Interior, just because my grandparents were from Japan.
Rude contact with facts chased my visions and dreams quickly away, and in their stead I beheld the horrors, the corruption, the evils and hypocrisy of society, and as I stood among them, a young wife, a great wail of agony went out from my soul.
Middle age went by while I was mourning for my lost youth.
Growing up, mostly in Montreal, I was an only child of loving parents.
During the second half of the twentieth century, I had the privilege of living through years of intensive erudition, and I realized that Canadians, located in the northernmost region of this hemisphere, were always respectful towards our country.