Chers amis,
Le 31 mai je voudrais faire une célébration bilingue. Je me concentrerai sur la vie vécu sur le pont (ou le trait d’union, comme Léo Poncelet dirait) entre les langues. C’est un truc qui a mon avis est à la fois un défi et une discipline spirituelle.
Etant donné que vous êtes des personnes qui habitent sur ce pont, j’aimerais avoir des vos réflexions – en anglais ou français selon votre préférence. [3]
"J'ai fait mon skirt, mais j'aime pas la way qu'à hang." [4]
Dans mon cas à moi, personnellement, je ne sens pas ce trait d'union. Pour moi, c'est une double vie - les deux solitudes, côte à côte en parallèle. Je vis mes journées presque totalement en français avec mes collègues de travail pendant que ma vie sociale se trouve presque totalement en anglais. Les deux se mélangent pas et ne se voient pas. Les quelques fois que mon épouse m'a accompagné à un événement ou rencontre social de bureau, c'était très bizarre. Je me sentais entre deux mondes.[5]
J'ai passé une année en français au couvent quand j'étais petite, et j'ai continué mes études en anglais, parce que ma mère a vite compris que, étant une famille catholique, je ne pourrais pas aller au secondaire -- nous n'avions pas l'argent pour me permettre une école privée -- et on est vite devenu protestants. [6]
Avant, je n'avais aucune idée de cette culture, sauf les préjugés qui circulaient parmi mes amis québécois souverainistes. Quelle ne fut pas ma surprise de lire une poésie riche et vivante! C'est vrai, il y a une barre oblique qui sépare ces deux mondes, et, à défaut de sauter la barre, on ne nous communique rien de ce qui se passe de l'autre bord! Il n'y a pas de lien entre les deux solitudes.[7]
Denis a raison lorsqu'il parle de deux mondes parallèles. Cependant, parler anglais est pour moi beaucoup plus que parler une deuxième langue: c'est connaître une autre culture au Québec, puis une autre dans le reste du Canada, et finalement une autre aux États-Unis. En fait, c'est travailler et pratiquer une religion en anglais qui ont facilité ma relation avec les anglophones.
Bien sûr, tant du côté francophone qu'anglophone, elles sont nombreuses les personnes qui sont susceptibles, fragiles, souvent jusqu'à la paranoïa: il suffit que quelqu'un utilise le mauvais mot au mauvais endroit, à cause d'un manque de connaissance de la culture de l'autre et de l'autre culture, pour qu'on sente le jugement s'établir. Quel dommage. Et de l'autre côté, c'est tellement fantastique de pouvoir comprendre la littérature, surtout la poésie, dans une langue comme dans l'autre. Pour moi, parler anglais au Québec, dans le reste du Canada et aux États-Unis, me permet justement d'élargir mes horizons et d'accepter les autres tels qu'ils sont.[8]
Ce sera avec les jeunes qui grandissent vraiment bilingues et avec moins de bagage de l'histoire des deux solitudes qu'il pourra y avoir des échanges à double-voies(2 way-streets or bridges) dans notre communauté. Etant essentiellement anglaise, l'église transporte des références anglosaxonnes qui pour ceux qui viennent d'ailleurs, n'ont pas beaucoup de résonnances affectives.Il faudrait une plus grande volonté et un plus profond désir de s'ouvrir à d'autres cultures pour pouvoir traverser le pont ensemble.
Je ne veux pas me présenter de façon négative ni pessimiste et j'apprécie les efforts récents qui ont eu lieu. Il est facile de parler d'unité, d'harmonie mais les paroles ne suffisent pas....il faut faire des petits pas, au fur et à mesure des jours, pour essayer de nous rejoindre....réciproquement, un pont à deux voies....pas toujours les même qui doivent le traverser. [9]
I am a product of the Two Solitudes, and I have to say that a lot of the time, I do feel pulled in both directions. I grew up in Westmount, but in a francophone upbringing; spoke French at home most of the time and went to school in French as well. My father is a well known Quebecois comic who decided to move to Westmount for anonymity- a huge star in the French world, but in Westmount, a complete unknown! My mother is an anglo from Ontario, so I speak English to her, and my cousins and family from Ontario speak English only.
I am both Canadian and Québécois, but I feel most strongly attached to Quebec culture and the Quebec nation. Maybe it's cause they (we) are the underdog- misunderstood by both English Quebecers and Canadians alike. Someone's gotta stick up for us, right? Historically and politically, I feel pulled and I often get into heated arguments about Quebec and Canada, but I have to admit that I have been on both sides of the argument! I have even often been on the third, invisible side of the argument, which is a can of worms in itself- Justice for First Nations. I believe we are still on colonial land, and that before we can even get past our French and English differences, we must consider that this is still "stolen land". I can hear the protests coming forth from all the other readers, but I've gotta speak my truth.
On just the level of language, the more the better! I grew up with the two, but in my early twenties I decided to learn Spanish, which I have been speaking fluently for about 8 years now. I am married to a Cuban-Canadian, so we speak our three languages freely and almost never finish a sentence in only one language. I love that and will absolutely encourage my kids to learn a fourth language if they feel so inclined. Maybe it’s cause I grew up bilingual that I understood very early on the value of being fluent in another language- you are always the "insider", you can be a chameleon! And if you are travelling to the US or English Canada, you can switch to French and gossip all you want... being multilingual is awesome!
I was born a year before the first referendum! I'm almost the post-referendum generation. And I think my age group has a less politically charged relationship to language. Which is to say: speaking French and English (either or both) is still a politically significant thing, but! It is seen, more and more, as a skill, instead of a symbol (of race, culture, political opinion, etc.). Also- I can't think of anyone, in my immediate circle, who doesn't have a firm grasp of English. And I know a few people whose French is pretty bad, but they're embarrassed about it. If it happens that someone says, with pride : "I do not speak [x]" it doesn't happen often, and the incident is generally considered as an example of ignorance and, well, weirdness.
Which brings me to : I think bilingualism, in Montreal, is turning into a class thing, i.e., more educated = more bilingual. So if anything, I think there might be, at this point, people looking down on others because they're not bilingual. I've definitely seen that happening recently.
P.S. I read Karine's e-mail, and realized who her dad had to be? And my head exploded.
When I left Peru 4 years ago, we were pushed to study English at the high school as a symbol of USA supremacy. When I left the school I spent some years to study this language in another institute. The result was I learnt Spanglish (Spanish+English). And when I decided to study French, after 2 years of intensive grammar torture I spoke Fragnol (Français+Espagnol).
When I arrived to Quebec I discovered another language: le québécois 100% pur laine. At the beginning it was hard because most of the people spoke to me in English, I guess because they were afraid I wasn't able to understand. Months later I discovered more than grammar differences in this province. I realized that to learn French was even a political issue. Between anglophones and francophones, Canadians gave me a label: they call me allophone.
Because I'm an immigrant, I’ve had the privilege to see both sides of these societies, two grammars and two histories in conflict. Two identities well differenced, and I belong to another one which must be absorbed or assimilated. That's a law and I'm not complaining...but to see these societies trying to do the same thing to each other is a psychological matter. The result is not to be different but distant.
La langue est un don que chacun d'entre nous reçoit des générations antérieures. Elle est un des véhicules le plus évident d'une culture. Plus de langues qu'on connait, plus de portes s'ouvrent sur des différentes cultures. Ceux qui parlent plus d'une langue peuvent être en position de faire le 'trait-d'union' entre les cultures.
Mais l'unitarianisme transcend la langue. Je suis unitarienne de naissance, de langue hongroise, langue d'origine des premiers unitariens au 16e siècle. Le christianisme, l'histoire hongroise toujours en quête de la liberté, la littérature, la musique, les dances, la broderie... ces aspects de la culture hongroise sont toujours présents chez les unitariens hongrois.
I participated in an American Unitarian community during my first five years of learning English and discovering the American culture of Unitarians. I was with the Youth Group, searching for answers to the meaning of life, solving theoretically all the social, economical and political problems, and having fun together. This is so different from the Hungarian Unitarian community and even from the Canadian Unitarians of Montreal where I'm a member for the past 25 years.
Chaque milieu a sa propre culture. Montréal est vraiment spécial. Ici, nous pourrions vraiment faire un 'trait d'union' entre plusieurs cultures. Nous avons ici le rencontre de plusieurs horizons avec une culture française vieille de 400 ans, culture bien ancrée au niveau histoire, littérature, musique, et ses institutions; et avec une culture anglaise vieille de 250 ans, culture aussi bien ancrée, quoique minoritaire sur le territoire immédiat, mais majoritaire sur le continent.
Franglais, for me is not the meeting of cultures, it is mixing two languages. Unitarianism is not a language issue, it is the meaningful search for the meaning of life, of community, of compassion in the culture or cultures that one lives. Language is the means of this meaningful communication. Unitarianism should transcend language and reach out to all those who need to talk about and share what is meaningful for them.[10]
Pas vraiment lituanienne, pas vraiment québécoise, pas vraiment canadienne... Traversée par toutes les influences, je vibre autant devant l'antique que devant le postmoderne...
[2] Note to non-local readers: these are the terms we use here. Francophones grow up speaking French, anglophones grow up speaking English, and allophones are anybody who lives here and grew up speaking any other language.
[3] Dear Friends,
On May 31, I would
like to do a bilingual service. I
will concentrate on life lived on the bridge (or “trait d’union,” - hyphen or
link, as Leo Poncelet would say) between languages. As I see it, this is something that is both a challenge and
a spiritual discipline. Since you
live on this bridge, I would love to have your reflections, -- in English or
French as you prefer.
[4] “I made my skirt,
but I don’t like how it hangs.” Heard in New Brunswick (courtesy of
Denis Barsalo’s friend)
[5] In my case,
personally, I don’t feel this bridge.
For me, it is a double life – the two solitudes, side by side in
parallel. I live my days almost
totally in French with my work colleagues, while my social life is almost
totally in English. The two don’t
mix and they have nothing to do with each other. The few times that my wife accompanied me to a work event or
gathering, it was very bizarre. I
felt as though I were between two worlds.
I admit that I had never really thought your way until recently. As for the Unitarian Church of Montreal,
I agree that one could be a link (-) but personally, I feel more like a forward
slash (/), sign of division. A
“double life” as one would say in English. –Denis Barsalo
[6] I spent a year
[going to school] in French at the convent when I was little, and I continued
my studies in English because my mother quickly realized that being in a
Catholic family I wouldn’t be able to go to high school – we didn’t have money
for me to attend a private school – so we quickly became Protestants.
–Florence Stevens
[7] Before, I had no
idea of [the anglophone] culture, except the prejudices that circulated among
my québécois sovereignist friends.
What a surprise to read such rich and lively poetry! It is true, there is an oblique bar
that separates these two worlds, and without jumping over the bar, we don’t
communicate anything and nothing passes from one side to the other! There isn’t
a link between the two solitudes.
–Nancy Labonté
[8] Denis is right
when he speaks of two parallel worlds.
However, to me, to speak English is more than speaking a second
language: it is to know another culture in Québec, then another in the rest of
Canada, and finally another in the US.
In fact, it is working and practicing a religion in English that has
facilitated my relationship with anglophones.
Of course, both on the
francophone side and the anglophone side, there are many people who are
susceptible, fragile, often to the point of paranoia: All it takes is someone using a wrong word at a wrong place
due to a lack of knowledge of the culture of the other person and of the other
culture and one feels a negative judgment establish itself. What a shame.
And on the other hand, it is so fantastic to be able to understand
literature, above all poetry, in one language as in the other. For me, to speak English in Québec, in
the rest of Canada, and in the US, permits me to widen my horizons and to
accept others as they are.
–Normand Gosselin
[9] It will be the
young who grow up truly bilingual and with less baggage from the history of the
two solitudes who will be able to have two-way exchanges in our community. Being essentially English, the church
uses Anglo-Saxon references that, for those who come from other places, don’t
have many emotional resonances.
There would have to be a greater will and a deeper desire to open up to
other cultures in order to cross the bridge together. I don’t want to present
myself in a negative or pessimistic way, and I appreciate the recent efforts
that have taken place. It is easy
to speak of unity and harmony, but words are not enough… Little steps need to
be taken, bit by bit, to try to meet us… reciprocally, a two-way bridge … not
always the same ones crossing it.
–Francine Desmarais
[10] Language is a gift
that we each receive from past generations. It is one of the most evident vehicles in a culture. The more languages one know, the more
doors that open to different cultures.
Those who speak more than one language can be in a position to make the
bridge (le trait d’uinon) between cultures.
But Unitarianism transcends
language. I am a Unitarian by
birth, of Hungarian tongue, the first language of the first Unitarians in the
16th century. Christianity,
Hungarian history always in search of freedom, literature, music, dances,
embroidery… these aspects of the Hungarian culture were always present among
the Hungarian Unitarians.
Each milieu has its own
culture. Montreal is truly
special. Here we would be able to
really make a bridge between several cultures. We have here the meeting of several horizons with a 400-year
old French culture, a culture well-anchored on the historic level, literature,
music, and its institutions; and with a 250-year old English culture also
well-anchored, although a minority on the immediate land, but a majority on the
continent. –Hannelore Poncelet
