Many industries here in Quebec are facing a critical worker shortage. Even though many people argue that the current situation could be alleviated with the help of immigrants or temporary foreign workers, the government of Quebec regards immigrants as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, immigrants will boost to help fix the labour shortage and develop Quebec’s economy in this post-pandemic period. On the other hand, the government of Quebec is afraid of the status of the French language with the influx of non-Francophone immigrants. The Coalition Avenir Québec (CAQ) candidate for Trois-Rivières, Jean Boulet, made the comments during the provincial election campaign: “Eighty percent of immigrants go to Montreal, don’t work, don’t speak French, and don’t adhere to the values of Quebec,” he said. “The key is regionalization and francization.” Although he apologized for his comments which “didn’t express his thoughts well,” he was criticized by his competitors and the public. The premier of Quebec, Francois Legault stated that it would be suicide to accept more than 50000 immigrants a year; he also tied immigrants to violation and extremism. It seems that Quebec is in a dilemma, it is obvious that Quebec needs to welcome more and more immigrants to address the worker shortage problem. Nevertheless, the government of Quebec privileges the protection of the French language even at the cost of the development of Quebec’s economy.
According to Statistics Canada’s most recent report on Quebec immigration between 2011 and 2016, Quebec received 215,170 immigrants. Of those, 179,270 (83 percent) went to Montreal. The most immigrants during that period came from France (20,030), followed by Haiti (16,875), Algeria (16,380) and Morocco (13,480). Cameroon (7,555) and Tunisia (5,850) are also on the list, along with non-French speaking countries China (10,705), Colombia (7,540), Iran (7,505) and Syria (7,460).
This past week, taking the time to learn about the struggles of “Generation 1.5” Korean immigrants was fascinating. This is really a demographic that can often be overlooked when learning about or teaching languages, however, the struggle they face is definitely something we should acknowledge, recognize and work toward trying to help these people establish themselves and gain a sense of identity.
Just to clarify, a study conducted by Jean Kim and Patricia A. Duff (2012) in various Canadian universities sought to discover how Generation 1.5 Korean-Canadian university students identified and used their various languages (Korean and English). Among their various conclusions, the one that struck me most was that the ones who were more fluent in English and better integrated into the overarching English-speaking community were seen by their “less-integrated” Korean peers as a sort of “act of betrayal” (Kim & Duff, 2012, p. 89). Even though there were many Koreans in the schools, they were, in a sense, defined by who they spent time with and the primary language spoken between each other, and this would, in turn, define their “Korean-ness” (Kim & Duff, 2012).
This study really allowed me to reflect on several experiences I can relate to from my life and my family.
First off, I remember when I was younger, in my late teens, I had a family from Mexico move two doors down. Thinking back, this was really the first time I’d come face-to-face with this idea of Generation 1.5. At the time, as a budding entrepreneur of 15 years old with my own neighbourhood lawn-mowing business (which clearly never panned out over the long-term), I went over to these new neighbours to introduce myself and offer my services. It also helped that I was learning Spanish at the time, and I was able to converse with the parents. I met the children, of which there were four, and the two eldest were around my age, whereas the two youngest were in elementary school. The elder daughters were older when they came to Canada, and, as such, spoke fluently in Spanish and were limited in their English abilities. The opposite was true for the younger siblings, as they had started elementary school in English, and even spoke to each other in English instead of Spanish. It was apparently a struggle to get them to speak in Spanish at home at all. The older sisters were critical of this, concerned that their unwillingness to use Spanish regularly might lead them to become more assimilated and less connected to their cultures.
Similarly, I think I can partially relate the Generation 1.5 experience to my own family, as there were also times when we feared for our identities and culture. My parents and their siblings all came to Canada from Italy when they were around six years old. At the time, they only knew how to speak Italian, however, as, one by one, they all started going to English school (as French schools were rejecting Italian immigrants at the time), English became the language they used most outside the home, and eventually became the language used to speak to each other, to the dismay of my grandparents. My grandmother often tells me how she grew frustrated that they would speak to each other in English around the dinner table as she had trouble understanding them. With this said, she has also told me that she was happy they were picking up English so efficiently and that this would lead to more positive opportunities later on in life, which it did. This was the situation for both my parents.
When my sister and I were born, my parents decided to raise us speaking Italian at home. As such, we would hear them speak in English, but we would only really speak Italian until we started elementary school. Once this happened, and we became more proficient in English, somehow – and I don’t know exactly when, how, or why – we started to speak in English to our parents, and this is still the case today.
Of course, to note is that the way that my parents taught me Italian definitely differed to how they were taught Italian from their parents. There was even a study about this by Gloria Notarangelo (2016) that discovered that “the percentage of Italian language used in the relation first-second generation and that spoken between second and third generation, has decreased from 90% to 20%” (p. 12).
Finally, to link this all together, I’d like to relate back to the idea of Generation 1.5 and the struggles faced by some of these Korean-Canadian university students. If you recall, one of the discoveries for me while reading the study was to see that the “less integrated” Koreans would discriminate against the “more-integrated/English speaking” Koreans for, in a sense, “betraying their culture” (Kim & Duff, 2012). As a proud Italian-Canadian, I am extremely happy to be able to speak my language and connect with my rich culture. We were brought up with the strong sense that knowledge of Italian linked us to our identities and our culture, and therefore when I meet Italian-Canadians who have little to no knowledge of the Italian language, I cannot stop myself from low-key judging them for, in a sense, forgoing their own cultures and identities. Sure, my parents’ and my generation did not live the Generation 1.5, but I believe that, at the end of the day, in the case of all of the aforementioned cases and examples, it’s always a question of fear of loss of culture or identity.
As we see in this video by Italian-Montreal comedian Guido Grasso, however, even our old Italian ‘nonna’ mixes in English when speaking to relatives in Italy.
[debstube100]. (2013, January 18). Guido Grasso – Italian vs. North American Italian [Video]. Youtube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_NItXn1ipoQ&ab_channel=debstube100
In her article titled Who’s in and Who’s Out? Language and the Integration of New Immigrant Youth in Quebec, Allen (2006) stresses the word “isolation” when describing the accueil groups in her study. In fact, it is used eight times (along with “alienation”) throughout the text to portray how these groups of students are taught: in isolation from the mainstream students and teachers. Steinbach (2009) used the term “sergregation”. A group of accueil students always remain together, despite their educational background, age or native language, while studying French, math and physical education.
Even as we integrated into the mainstream groups, we had a label stuck to our forehead. After being “sheltered” from the rest of the school for nearly two years, I had too hard a time connecting with the students in the regular classes and was too ashamed to speak French. In fact, I did everything in my power to refrain from participating—even if it meant faking an illness to stay at home.
Like the participants in the Allen (2006) study, I saw the French language as the enemy. A foreign language being shoved down my throat three out of four periods a day.
Je suis, tu es, il est, elle est…
I missed out on the required secondary three biology class which all students in regular classes had to take. Also, the French taught in accueil classes tends to be the “standard” version and spoken at a much slower pace so it was a shock to sit in a regular class and not understand what the teacher was saying or the jokes that everyone was laughing at.
I failed the secondary four history class and had to redo it the following year. I also barely passed my low-level math class. All of these things made me seriously consider dropping out of school. I felt like a failure and an alien.
This is my experience in the accueil program. And outside of it.
I was one of the lucky ones who was young enough when I entered the accueil program; my teacher identified me as strong and I went into regular classes and I obtained my high school diploma two years later. My stepbrothers were not as lucky. They were 17 and 18 when we moved to Montreal from Toronto, and they ended up dropping out and going into the workforce. As did many other students.
As an immigrant student to Toronto, I was sent directly into the regular grade four class alongside other immigrants and locals. There was no segregation and I had extra ESL classes during the week where I was pulled out of class, discreetly. I wonder why, then, Quebec feels the need to instill such a harsh program which perpetuates labels and stigma that go beyond the classroom walls and have a potential debilitating effect on students?
As a grown woman and mother of two, I know that in spite of having a very hard high school experience, I was able to learn the language that I speak quite fluently today. However, I strongly believe that immigrant children should not be segregated from the rest of the school and treated like outsiders, forbidden to speak their language and not given the opportunity to take classes alongside their mainstream peers in an attempt to integrate (or…assimilate?) them.
What do you think?
References:
Allen, D. (2006). Who’s in and who’s out? Language and the integration of new immigrant youth in Quebec. International Journal of Inclusive Education, 10(2-3), 251–263.
Steinbach, M. (2010). Quand je sors d’accueil: linguistic integration of immigrant adolescents in Quebec secondary schools. Language Culture and Curriculum, 23(2), 95–108.
This morning, I was commuting to my class. There were only two days left before the traditional Chinese New Year, but the joyful atmosphere, which has already been rare even in China these days, was apparently nowhere to be found in a carriage of the subway in a country thousand miles away. Suddenly, a naïve voice from a Chinese boy next to me drew my attention: “妈妈，中国农历新年是在情人节那天吗?”(Mum, is Lunar Chinese New Year on the Valentine’s Day?) His mother did not say anything, and the boy quickly added: “还是你也不清楚呢?” (or…you are not clear either?) , followed by an awkward silence. Thanks to the conversation still, that is one of the few things that remind me that Chinese New Year is around the corner.
Currently, the Chinese population no doubt takes up a considerable proportion of the immigrants in Quebec. However, a lot of us will find ourselves outsiders of this ‘unique’ French-dominant place (Allen, 2006).
In the third chapter of the textbook, we read about physical isolation and language change. Van Herk shed some light on some types of linguistic isolation and he touched upon the idea that usually when immigrants revisit their home counties, they find that the spoken language has changed slightly – or even significantly – from how it was when they lived there. Reading that chapter made me think about my own experience. In fact, even though I have been away from my homeland for a relatively short period of time (2 years and a half), I cannot recognise some aspects of language now commonly used in my home country.
What is your impression of Chinatown? Before coming to Montreal, my understanding of Chinatown all came from online videos and TV programs about it. For me, Chinatown should be a place filled with traditional Chinese features, like the honorific archway, red lanterns and, of course, Chinese characters, which can help to maintain and propel Chinese identity of the immigrants and their offsprings. Meanwhile, as a tourist attraction, Chinatown can provide tourists from all over the world with an experience of Chinese culture. However, what I saw in Chinatown here completely changed my impression of it. I made the decision to visit Chinatown in Montreal the second day after arriving because I thought it would be a good way to relieve me from my homesickness since I could enjoy Chinese food and talk to people in Chinese instead of French. But what I saw there was almost nothing like what I had imagined before. To my disappointment, there were just a few restaurants and stores operated by Chinese immigrants, which covered quite a small area and looked shabby. Besides, I noticed that even Japanese, Korean and Vietnamese restaurants could be found in Chinatown, making me more confused about the purpose of building it in the first place. Therefore, I read several articles concerning Chinatown and tried to find the answer.
Last week, we talked about language, space and the influence of globalization on languages. And we had discussions and activities in terms of dealing with the immigrant children depressed by French learning in Montreal and their culture loss. I can’t help asking myself this question: Is Montreal really embracing immigrants and their cultures?
When I first came to Montreal last August, I was surprised by its multilingual environments. I can hear people speaking various languages in the street: French, English, Chinese, Korean, Arabic, and others. People of different complexions greet each other at schools and workplaces. I thought that this city is embracing immigrants and welcoming people from all over the world. However, after a year, I felt that I am uncovering its veil gradually and there is a known secret, in which we are all a part of that: Montreal is not as friendly as it’s tagged.
