When I was a kid, a staple – and frequent – summertime activity for my family (immediate, extended, and adopted) was a daytrip to Niagara Falls. The adults would pack the cars with coolers of food and drinks, extra clothes for the kids in case of sudden weather changes or accidents, and eventually the kids – me included. We would drive the distance to the Falls in caravan-like formation after all family members converged on a specified meet up spot in the City. In the days before air-conditioning was a standard feature in most cars, the 60 to 90 minute drive, always felt like a sweltering eternity; even with all windows open and air rushing in as we sped along the highway.

Once we arrived at the Falls, the adults would scout out a grassy spot to lay out food and other supplies; and where all the kids could safely play. Once fed, we would go for a long walk to watch gallons of water rush over the steep cliffs of the Falls. Far below us, boats that looked like toys floating along the Niagara River took tourists as close to the bottom of the Falls as safely as possible; while the kids in our group counted the rainbows we could see in the water’s rising mist. After an hour or two, we would pile back into the cars to head to one of two nearby locations: a huge amusement park with loud colourful rides where the kids could run wild or Marineland to watch choreographed shows with trained marine animals: dolphins, sea lions, and whales.

I loved going to both of those places but my favourite was Marineland. Watching the gigantic whales perform the tricks their trainers taught them never bored. Unfortunately, when I was a kid, it never occurred to me that those beautiful creatures were suffering. They were, after all, there to entertain us during as many of those daytrips we took each summer. My brain wasn’t mature enough to understand that holding them captive in their tanks was abuse because, as small as I was, it looked to me that they had enough room to swim and move about freely. But those animals, mammals just like you and me, weren’t free to move where they wished: They were fished from the oceans, ripped from their families, and forced to work for food for years, even decades.

Wow! Where did those thoughts come from? I’ve never used words like these to describe the plight of animals held in marine enclosures before. I wasn’t even aware I felt this deeply about this issue. Had I felt like this when I was a child, my parents would have had tremendous difficulty getting me in the car those many times all those summers ago for those trips. Instead, I was excited and electrified at the possibility that one of those Killer Whales (Orcinus orca) at Marineland might get close enough to where I sat to splash me with enough water to soak me to the bone.

Looking back, I still treasure those summertime trips. However, as an adult, I’ve never visited Marineland and writing this post might have just shed some light on why. Still, in my own way, I’ve upheld the tradition of taking visitors to see the majesty of Niagara Falls, much like my parents used to. Whenever friends and family from other countries come to visit me, I always include a trip to the Falls and surrounding wineries in our plans because I think it’s a sight that shouldn’t be missed. Now I’m wondering if I should, one day, return to Marineland, not for the entertainment, but to see if the conditions we hold these beautiful animals in have improved or…

To be truthful, I have no desire to visit again. Furthermore, I don’t know what I’d do if it’s all still the same. What would you do?