There was a time in Canada when most parents who could enrol their kids in minority francophone schools were in couples made up of two francophones. But those days are gone. Today, the majority of parents who can have their children educated in French as a first language are in mixed francophone/non-francophone relationships.
That, however, isn’t the whole story. There are also single parents and francophones who have lost French as a family language, as well as more and more newcomers to this country and some non-francophone couples who want their children to master French.
In short, the world of minority francophone education in Canada is changing radically. And with it comes the need for school boards and parent associations to welcome and offer support to a wide variety of parents, not all of whom speak French. That’s the reason for this website, and for all the services I offer as a consultant.
So welcome to Francophone Education in Canada, which takes over where www.exogam.ca left off. This new resource belongs to you, too: the Forum lets you share your experiences, ideas, challenges and solutions with parents and educators throughout the country. Feel free to join in!
I hope you’ll find this site relevant, fun and useful. Enjoy your visit — and check back often!
Some people just don’t get it. Not yet, anyway. But maybe we can change that.
I’m referring to folks in the world of francophone education who like to talk about a shady group of characters they call “exogamous families.” In French, they call them familles exogames.
Now, if you’re like me, you find the word “exogamous” (pronounced “eggs-aw-ga-mous”) not only odd but downright ugly. It’s slightly less dreadful in French because, well, don’t a lot of words sound nicer in “the language of love”?
By the way, the noun is “exogamy” in English and exogamie in French. Not much prettier, eh? Unless one finds the humour in it, à la Fusion:
I imagine that people who use the terms “exogamous family” and famille exogame simply haven’t given the subject a whole lot of thought. Or it could be a matter of habit — heck, I used to use the term myself, many years ago when I didn’t know any better. And why would anyone in their right mind (other than me… but in my right mind?) spend precious time reflecting on such an obscure issue anyway?
Here’s why: because saying “exogamous family” reveals a lack of understanding and suggests a certain bias.
This kind of thing can spark exciting exchanges between individuals. But when the term is used by someone claiming to speak with any authority on the subject (for instance, educational and community leaders, or self-styled “experts”), well, that’s another matter.
A public service
Anyone who has read the first chapter of Fusion knows why the term “exogamous family” doesn’t make sense. For those of you who haven’t yet read the book, here’s a condensed version of the chapter, which I offer as a public service:
I've met lots of parents who, like the tweeting father in my last blog, know some French but aren't comfortable trying to speak it in public. Since French is the language of francophone education in Canada, this can make a trip to their kids' school uncomfortable or even unpleasant.
If only speaking French were as simple as this:
But it isn't. So what does that mean for parents who don't speak French? Well, it all depends on the school their kids attend. And what happens in the school depends on the school board's language policy, procedures, guidelines and practices.
The older my kids get, the more I realize there's rarely a simple answer…
Anyway, non-French-speaking parents have a few choices. They can:
keep their heads down and not look anyone in the eye, thereby avoiding the need to talk.
speak the few French words they know (like "Bonjour") to support the use of French in the school.
try to use even more French words (so what if it turns into Franglais?) in an effort to expand their horizons — with friendly help from francophone parents and teachers, of course.
use their mother tongue, whether it's English or any other language, taking for granted that everybody will understand them.
use hand gestures, facial expressions and other techniques that don't require fluency in any language.
encourage their school board to develop a language policy that assures the predominance of French while helping them get the information they need in order to participate in their children's education.
I kind of like the second-last choice, since it can be the most amusing. This being said, school boards that don't have a clear, consensual language policy aren't doing administrators, teachers, parents, students — or themselves — any favours.
But back to those nonverbal techniques. If you'd like to try some out on your next trip to the school, you may find this clip of Quebec comedian Michel Courtemanche inspirational:
Some people just don’t get it. Not yet, anyway. But maybe we can change that.