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:
I was thinking that I should start using Twitter, and wondered how I'd get the ball rolling. What do people tweet, anyway? Here's what the Twitter website says: "Instantly connect to what's most important to you. Follow your friends, experts, favorite celebrities, and breaking news."
Okay, so I'm not sure which category I fit into, nor what I’d write about. From what I've seen, many tweets go something like this: "Woke up this morning", "Had cereal with beer because we're outta milk", "Fed the rodent"… Not very exciting and, when it comes to rodents, not something everyone wants to know.
So instead of relating my day, I figured I could start by writing about an imaginary day in the imaginary life of an imaginary non-francophone parent who's new to the very real world of French-language education. To that end, I've put together some experiences (the tweetable ones, that is) that parents, including me, have had.
It’s funny, I’d written almost 400 words for my first blog and was just about to upload it to the website when a single word jumped out at me: “students.” I’d stated that no school board other than a francophone one could help students achieve such a high level of bilingualism.
And then it struck me: kids who attend schools run by anglophone boards, including French immersion, study the French language whereas, ideally, kids in francophone schools live it. Just like they live the English language, since that’s what they speak with nearly everyone around them.
But it’s the idea of kids living in French, growing up thinking and dreaming and learning and expressing themselves in the language, that really sets a francophone education apart. It’s also the greatest challenge for many parents who don’t speak French.
Some people just don’t get it. Not yet, anyway. But maybe we can change that.