A Statement of National Pride

"Canadians don't bestride the world like a colossus: that role is taken by you-know-who south of us. Instead, we are a people of small huts, clusters of neighborhoods, keepers of modest gardens.

"So what is recorded for our posterity is not the chronicle of awesome events, but the memory of how people responded to personal crisis, challenge, and opportunity; how power affected them; how low they would stoop, or how tall they would stand in order to conquer."
-- Dalton Camp

I was relating this story to a friend the other day, so I thought I'd share it here for posterity.

When people ask me about my national identity (in Quebec, it comes up more often than you'd think), I tell them that I'm a proud Canadian and Quebecois, and I cannot be one without the other, so don't ask me to choose. Many people are surprised to hear that I was born here, even more so when I tell them that I'm a Quebec city boy. "There are anglos in Quebec city, the bastion of French Canada?!?"

There certainly are, I'm proud to say. As of 2009, there are at least five English Elementary schools, two English High Schools, and one English CEGEP (Champlain Regional College: St. Lawrence). There is an Anglo newspaper (The Chronicle Telegraph) and a community centre (VEQ).

The Anglo community in Quebec city represents approximately 2% of the population of Quebec city in 2006 (according to the Office of the Commissioner of Official Languages. The percentage of Anglos who are 65 and older is over 19% (click here for other interesting statistics about Quebec city Anglos)!


When I was growing up in Quebec city, I attended Elementary, High School, and CEGEP in English. It was only when I moved away for my university studies at the Universite de Sherbrooke did I attend a French educational institution (and even then, I was studying in the English department in the Professional Writing program).

I'm sad to say that, as a youth, the French language annoyed me. I was fairly fluent, but I hated using it. It was a struggle and an imposition. I loved going on vacation away from Quebec city so I could speak English freely and not be harassed and told to "Go Home" constantly.

It was only in university that I realized that I was indeed proud to be a Quebecois. I was in the kitchen in my residence block having lunch when I overheard two guys talking about rallying the Quebecois students together for a meeting about the promise of an upcoming referendum (approx. 1991). They decided on the time and place and were about to walk out when I asked to confirm the time.

(this exchange was all in French)
"Why do you want to know that," they sneered. "This has nothing to do with you."

"What? Of course it does. I'm a Quebecois, born and bred," I replied, a bit taken aback.

"No you're not," they shot back. "You're an Anglophone, so you're not a real Quebecois and you don't count. When we get our own country, you'll be the first to go back where you came from."

I was stunned, speechless, and unbelievably angry. I'll never forget that moment as long as I live. Sometimes you only realize how important something is when someone tries to take it away.

But that anger brought on a sad realization: I really didn't know very much about my French Canadian heritage and culture. I had spent the better half of my first 20 years in the province living in denial and I didn't really take the time to appreciate the music, literature, culture, and history of my own people.

Since then, I have expanded my knowledge of Francophone culture and history and I celebrate it whenever I can. I'm still faced with idiots who tell me to go home, that I'm not a true Quebecois, and that I'm the reason that the Quebec Francophone has it so tough. I've had some interesting debates with people like that, and I've walked away from the uninteresting ones.

As a fifth generation Irish-Francophone Quebecois, I'm proud to call this place my home and no one will tell me where my home really is without a fight.