I’m not a very angry person and when I do, it never lasts long. I find this state much too energy-consuming. I’m too lazy to harbor resentment. It remains that since the 1er December, I see red.
I got angry when I heard our Prime Minister ask the unions to stop the strike “for the good of our children”. Many journalists and columnists have relayed and commented on this release, but I still have too much on my heart not to go further.
Let’s start with the form of his words.
As an actress and director, I have what it takes to analyze the tone of our head of state. His slow delivery and his sentences dotted with unnecessary pauses recalled a funeral oration delivered by a neurasthenic priest. He unduly stretched the sound of the vowels, particularly the nasals, to create a miserable effect accentuated by an unbearable vocal softness.
Of course, a prime minister is not required to deliver all his press briefings with the passion and eloquence of Cyrano de Bergerac’s tirade from the nose. On the other hand, if he wants to play on the heartstrings of his voters, he must do so with sincerity and/or virtuosity. To make us believe that what he says is deeply important to him, he needs energy. Mr. Legault instead showed indolence, I would even go so far as to say apathy, which cut off all credibility.
Let us continue with the substance of his words, “the good of children”.
School is fundamental for the development of children. They acquire physical, intellectual and cultural knowledge and skills. They also develop their social skills. In some more complicated cases, school is a safe place where they can take refuge to escape an unfit home. Some may also benefit from essential nutrition programs. In short, school plays a vital role.
When I hear the Prime Minister speak on behalf of the good of children, I therefore expect him to do everything possible to make our public network the best in the world. If the school is so important, how can we explain such inadequate conditions for teachers and support staff? How is it that we are forced to experience such disengagement, such discontent, such exhaustion? Someone in Quebec — this government and previous ones — let our network collapse.
Let me present to you a case which clearly illustrates the failures of our public school weighed down by cruel school segregation.
It’s the story of a student who finishes primary school in a small and very nice neighborhood school in Montreal. He has an 84% general average. He aspires to enter secondary school, either in the private schools in his neighborhood or in the enriched program of the public secondary school. But there you have it, you have to have 85%, or 75% if the student comes from a “bridge school”, which is not the case for their school. He also applied for admission to a public artistic school, where he was accepted, but unfortunately not selected in the draw.
So, the little guy, after waiting on waiting lists, finds himself on the regular program. Even knowing that regular classes are often made up of students in difficulty, his parents, like good old leftists, tell themselves that their son will be able to gain value by helping others and that public schools also deserve to have positive “leaders”.
Despite the good faith of the whole family, what came next was a series of bitter disappointments.
The secondary school in this area is in a serious state of disrepair, even though it is a heritage building. The regular students were transferred to a shabby closed primary school, about five kilometers from the main building, in a completely different neighborhood.
On the first day of school, freshly cut weeds and old, dry mulch from the half-dismembered old playground littered the cracked asphalt of the schoolyard. A strange, old net had been installed at the top of the fence, probably to keep basketballs from ending up in the street. It looked like a youth detention center in the depths of the Bronx, in an American film from the 1980s.
“It’s all just cosmetic,” the mother says to herself, wanting to remain positive. Except that this pavilion does not offer a gymnasium or library worthy of the name and no extracurricular activities.
Yet, if any students need support and activities to stay stuck in school, it is precisely these students. What had to happen happened, the little man, although curious and lively, saw his French and mathematics grades drop, not to mention his motivation. I can’t imagine what this type of environment can do to struggling students.
This boy is my son, his school is Sophie-Barat, formerly renowned for being a good public secondary school. But we must believe that the good of children is the teaching unions who are responsible, especially not the governments who have allowed our flagships to fade.
I’m not angry because my son found himself in this situation. From next year, I will be able to change schools, because I am privileged and I have the means.
I am angry because other parents, teachers, and staff in these moribund schools deserve better than contempt and blaming speeches. The entire public system deserves major investments, dignified conditions and respect, which our Prime Minister, listening to him mumble his shoddy pleas, seems incapable of giving.
Salomé Corbo is an actress, improviser, author and citizen as best she can.