

I remember a pivotal conversation with my high school guidance counselor when I was 17. He called me to his office to inform me that my high school – a small Canadian school in the village of Lakefield, Ontario, population 1200 (or thereabouts), that bussed in farm kids from surrounding counties and native kids from a nearby reservation – was nominating me for a four-year scholarship to arguably the most prestigious university in the country (Queen's University, which likes t...
Published on July 28, 2010 13:05