The Privilege of Travel

Many of the people I grew up with didn’t travel on a plane until their late teens.

Thankfully, I wasn’t one of them.

I grew up in Nova Scotia—a beautiful place.

Ocean, beaches, lakes, plenty of wilderness. 

Just outside a small town, the kind where everyone knows everyone else.

What it lacked was diversity. 

Diversity in jobs, people, backgrounds. Different perspectives.

I did, however, get the opportunity to travel.

My parents made it a priority to take trips each year. Different places in Canada, the Maritimes, the Northeast US. 

We took longer trips every few years—the West Coast, Europe, Belize.

I was privileged to have the opportunity to do so.

Those trips showed me big cities, different cultures, poverty, homelessness, wealth, diversity. 

Most of all, they stoked my desire for more travel, one that I indulged as I went off to university and in my post-university years.

I may not have had the diversity around me that many did growing up.

But I did have the opportunity to get glimpses, which led to me wanting more.

Travel is a privilege. But one well worth the price.