When I came to Canada from Saudi Arabia as a child in the winter of 1993, I was surprised by many things: signage written in two languages, the depth of cold, and the weak sleet on the ground (Hollywood had promised me fluffy snow – this was a major betrayal). No one had mentioned the Queen to me, or that her image would appear non-stop in classrooms, on TV and even in our pockets, her portrait on our bills and coins. I was 7 and endlessly curious about this ubiquitous figure, prim and matronly, absolutely distant, but also everywhere. I learned if you laid enough coins down you could trace her age throughout the years, and admire the small fluctuations of her regal bearing and steady profile, forever glancing right. […] Read the full article at the Globe and Mail website
