Everyone was talking about it this winter. At the end of February, the Anishinabe rapper Samian found himself excluded from the Festival international de la chanson de Granby, because his performance would have taken place mainly in Anishinabemowin. The festival, which has been promoting French-language song for more than 50 years, refused to make an exception and allow a show in the Aboriginal language.
The festival said it was “sincerely sorry for the turn of events”, but the damage was done. To Everybody talks about it, Samian had denounced a “colonialist” mentality, which considers indigenous languages as a threat to French. Messages of support had then fused from all over Quebec. Yes, French must be protected, they said. But not by harming indigenous languages or the self-determination of peoples. In terms of public relations, the Festival de Granby had obviously lost the game.
Remembering how Samian’s message was heard just a few months ago, I tell myself that a good part of the population would also be ready to listen to the criticisms that many Aboriginal leaders have been making of Bill 96 since its filing by the Quebec government.
Tuesday, in the National Assembly, several leaders reiterated their concern about this new language policy, which would have many implications for the First Nations and Inuit in Quebec. Ghislain Picard, Chief of the Assembly of First Nations Quebec-Labrador (AFNQL), said he fears that the adoption of Bill 96 will force “the exodus of our students to other avenues, other schools outside Quebec”. He added that he found “a stunning irony that, finally, the first occupants of the territory in Quebec were forced to go and study outside their territory”.
Mr. Picard is referring here to the new requirements for French courses at the college level included in the bill. His words are strong, so it is important to explain their context. With the work of the missionaries, then with the boarding schools, and finally with the contemporary school system, it has already been several generations that the Aboriginal peoples in Quebec and elsewhere in Canada have had an education imposed on them in one or two colonial languages. The first languages of the territory are therefore today strongly threatened by this – some more than others – and the cultural transmission and the very existence of the indigenous peoples as distinct groups are threatened with them.
The Inuit and certain First Nations, such as the Micmacs and the Mohawks, have historically had English imposed on them. The Quebec government, in its desire for national affirmation, is working to establish French as the official and common language on its territory. With Bill 96, certain Aboriginal students are therefore required to master a second “foreign” language in an education system that refuses to give serious consideration to their languages and cultures.
Our schools are already perceived as alienating living environments by some Aboriginal youth, which contributes to the lower academic success rates of many communities. Consequently, there are fears of aggravating the risk of dropping out or encouraging the departure of certain students to neighboring provinces if Aboriginal students were subject to Bill 96.
I use the verb “submissive” with an acute awareness of the weight of this word. Because that’s what it’s all about here: submission. Several journalists and elected officials are wondering why we would make a big fuss over three additional French courses at college – or why we seem to want to defend education in English, another colonial language and certainly not indigenous. The answer formulated by several of the speakers during the press conference on Tuesday lies elsewhere.
We simply refuse to allow the Government of Quebec to dictate the language of learning for young Aboriginals. We don’t want to have French imposed on us, nor English for that matter; we want to be free to choose for ourselves. An elementary principle that goes hand in hand with the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which Canada is committed to respecting in all its laws. A principle that Samian had also defended, in his own way, when he denounced the “colonialist mentality” of a festival that sought to impose a language on it. A principle that many Quebecers then understood.
However, it is important to say one thing: the self-determination of indigenous peoples and the freedom to choose one’s language remain theoretical unless real options are offered. If there are virtually no post-secondary study programs in Aboriginal languages in Quebec, do the young Micmac or Mohawk really make the “choice” of English at CEGEP or university? Does a Huron or Abenaki teenager, whose ancestral language is particularly threatened, make the “choice” of an education in French in elementary school?
Of course not. For Indigenous youth to be truly free to learn their own language, in addition to French, English or any other language, there needs to be a revitalization of Indigenous languages, the challenges and advances of which vary widely from community to to the other. Nor can this revitalization be imposed by a government that would like to unilaterally “save” the first languages of the territory. Autonomy and mutual respect are the keys to success here.
To move forward and understand each other, dialogue and listening are necessary. If Bill 96 is adopted as such, while the AFNQL amendments have been swept aside by the government, it will now be even more difficult to reach an agreement, unfortunately.