A few weeks ago, I took part in a night of short talks on the subject of the city of Prince George’s identity – what it was, is, and might be.
It gave me the chance to explore an idea I’ve been playing with lately about the stereotype of Canadian history as boring, and how in reality that’s a convenient way to ignore the more troubling parts of our past. Some of the darker parts of who we are are erased from our collective memory in order to present a more pleasant, bland narrative.
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