See this: http://www.cbc.ca/canada/new-brunswick/story/2010/11/19/nb-st-george-assault-1222.html.
This blog entry and title shall remain until the story is proven wrong or the community of St. George takes measures to prevent any similar activity in the future.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Gateway getaway
Before getting to my main comment, here is a bit of background. In Quebec, immigrants are expected to enroll their children in French schools. The only children who can go to publicly funded English schools in Quebec are those for whom at least one parent was educated in English in Canada. Those coming from outside Quebec must have already been enrolled in an English school elsewhere in Canada before moving to Quebec, or have a brother or sister who was enrolled in an English school before the move. In all these cases, at least one parent must be a Canadian citizen, unless the parent was schooled in English in Quebec.
The main idea is that any immigrant settling in Quebec should send his or her children to French schools. Thanks to a loophole, some people whose children don’t immediately qualify for English education in Quebec would send their children to private English schools for one year. After this, they were then allowed into public English schools. The provincial government passed legislation to close this loophole, but the legislation was declared unconstitutional. Rather than use the “notwithstanding clause” as provided for in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, the Quebec government recently chose to pass Bill 115, which sets out tougher criteria for parents wanting to have their children qualify for English school in this way.
End of history lesson. On to my usual blog entry:
Aspiring writers have long been told to write what they know. Tasha Kheiriddin is from Montreal, Quebec, and would be expected to be familiar with the province and its education system. But I wonder if that’s truly so. A National Post editorial signed by Kheiriddin and titled Quebec chooses language purity over prosperity is a good example. Here's an excerpt:
Unlike Kheiriddin, I'm not a Quebecker and my knowledge of Quebec is rather limited. But in this golden age of the Internet, it’s easy to get the information needed to be well-informed. In this case, I went to the Quebec government website, in English, and looked up the rules regarding education, the same ones that appear above. Obviously, the matter of citizenship is vitally important. As with many things, citizenship has its privileges. Many immigrants will be permanent residents long before gaining citizenship. If the parent's move to Quebec is inevitable for reasons of employment or otherwise, this could indeed have implications for the child’s education.
And yet, this is a rather limited perspective. Countless children remain unilingual anglophones in Canada because they do not have the chance to interact with francophones or receive an education in French. I understand that we don’t like to see our children’s marks suffer when moving into an area where the culture and language is different. But then we should put the school system on trial for summing up everything in a series of grades. When an employee goes through a performance appraisal, we don’t just see quantifiable factors like the number of tires installed or the number or words translated. There are also the unquantifiable aspects like relating with colleagues, customer service, problem solving. Why can’t we do the same thing with school?
But I digress...
What does Tasha Kheiriddin mean when she writes that immigrants coming to Quebec from another region of Canada cannot have their children educated in their language of choice? Clearly, when Kheiriddin says "their language of choice," it is code for "English". Otherwise, by now, there would surely have been Polish and Russian public schools in Ontario, and Ukrainian schools in Manitoba. If immigrants from France came to Alberta or Ontario, I’m sure Kheiriddin would be delighted to offer them the opportunity to go to an English school.
In many provinces, not just anyone can enrol in a French school. In New Brunswick, a child must be francophone, have a francophone parent or speak neither English nor French to enrol in a French school. In other provinces, the criteria could be even more restrictive. So, why should we be so indignant that Quebec would apply a similar principle regarding English?
And why should a French-language education not make these children ready to take on the world? Is she implying that French-language education is somehow inferior to English schooling? Why? And in what way?
The main thrust of the editorial is that the recently adopted Bill 115 has flaws. On this, even the French agree, though for different reasons. But Kheiriddin protests the creation of another level of bureaucracy to enforce a law that she believes shows that non-French-speaking people aren’t welcome in Quebec. We have every right to hate bureaucracy in Quebec. We have every right to believe that new legislation will create a new level of bureaucracy in Quebec, though we then have to prove it. But saying newcomers are not welcome if they do not speak French is something else. Canada itself insists that immigrants know at least one of the two official languages, or promise to learn one. If Canada can impose such conditions, why can't Quebec impose conditions regardings its schools?
Further on, Kheiriddin complains of deteriorating municipal infrastructure and unreasonable waiting periods in hospitals. She believes whatever money will be spent applying Bill 115 would be better spent if invested in infrastructure or to address the problem of delays in the medical system. But the problem of wait times and crumbling infrastructure is not limited to Quebec. What should Ontario cut to address the crumbling infrastructure in Ottawa or Toronto?
Kheiriddin says Quebec is choosing language purity over prosperity. (To be fair, the term "linguistic purity" should be defined. But again, I digress...) What she does not say is why one must necessarily preclude the other. The columnist does not seem to accept the possibility that both can coexist and even complement each other. She also said that Quebec is depriving itself of young immigrants by applying its language policy at a time where the population is aging. What then of Spain, Mexico, Sweden, Germany, Italy, Brazil? When moving to a new country, one must learn the local language. And if I move to a new province, I should learn the language used in that region too.
Finally, she complained that Quebec would received equalization payments despite – or given – its language policy. She says that Quebec can afford to offer seven-dollars-a-day daycare and free in vitro fertilization services only because it receives equalization payments. If an English-speaking province applied an English version of Quebec’s Language Charter and offered seven-dollars-a-day daycare, would she be so critical?
The two solitudes still exist. And some people and institutions seem determined to make sure they live on.
The main idea is that any immigrant settling in Quebec should send his or her children to French schools. Thanks to a loophole, some people whose children don’t immediately qualify for English education in Quebec would send their children to private English schools for one year. After this, they were then allowed into public English schools. The provincial government passed legislation to close this loophole, but the legislation was declared unconstitutional. Rather than use the “notwithstanding clause” as provided for in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, the Quebec government recently chose to pass Bill 115, which sets out tougher criteria for parents wanting to have their children qualify for English school in this way.
End of history lesson. On to my usual blog entry:
Aspiring writers have long been told to write what they know. Tasha Kheiriddin is from Montreal, Quebec, and would be expected to be familiar with the province and its education system. But I wonder if that’s truly so. A National Post editorial signed by Kheiriddin and titled Quebec chooses language purity over prosperity is a good example. Here's an excerpt:
"But when children are in the picture, things change. Parents want to equip their kids to take on the world, not just the province. If their children have already been educated elsewhere in English, putting them in French school could affect not only language skills, but their grades in all subjects. Knowing how most immigrants prize education, this is a risk many do not wish to take. And for immigrants coming to Quebec from other parts of Canada, it is downright discriminatory that they cannot move within their new country and school their children in the language of their choice."
Unlike Kheiriddin, I'm not a Quebecker and my knowledge of Quebec is rather limited. But in this golden age of the Internet, it’s easy to get the information needed to be well-informed. In this case, I went to the Quebec government website, in English, and looked up the rules regarding education, the same ones that appear above. Obviously, the matter of citizenship is vitally important. As with many things, citizenship has its privileges. Many immigrants will be permanent residents long before gaining citizenship. If the parent's move to Quebec is inevitable for reasons of employment or otherwise, this could indeed have implications for the child’s education.
And yet, this is a rather limited perspective. Countless children remain unilingual anglophones in Canada because they do not have the chance to interact with francophones or receive an education in French. I understand that we don’t like to see our children’s marks suffer when moving into an area where the culture and language is different. But then we should put the school system on trial for summing up everything in a series of grades. When an employee goes through a performance appraisal, we don’t just see quantifiable factors like the number of tires installed or the number or words translated. There are also the unquantifiable aspects like relating with colleagues, customer service, problem solving. Why can’t we do the same thing with school?
But I digress...
What does Tasha Kheiriddin mean when she writes that immigrants coming to Quebec from another region of Canada cannot have their children educated in their language of choice? Clearly, when Kheiriddin says "their language of choice," it is code for "English". Otherwise, by now, there would surely have been Polish and Russian public schools in Ontario, and Ukrainian schools in Manitoba. If immigrants from France came to Alberta or Ontario, I’m sure Kheiriddin would be delighted to offer them the opportunity to go to an English school.
In many provinces, not just anyone can enrol in a French school. In New Brunswick, a child must be francophone, have a francophone parent or speak neither English nor French to enrol in a French school. In other provinces, the criteria could be even more restrictive. So, why should we be so indignant that Quebec would apply a similar principle regarding English?
And why should a French-language education not make these children ready to take on the world? Is she implying that French-language education is somehow inferior to English schooling? Why? And in what way?
The main thrust of the editorial is that the recently adopted Bill 115 has flaws. On this, even the French agree, though for different reasons. But Kheiriddin protests the creation of another level of bureaucracy to enforce a law that she believes shows that non-French-speaking people aren’t welcome in Quebec. We have every right to hate bureaucracy in Quebec. We have every right to believe that new legislation will create a new level of bureaucracy in Quebec, though we then have to prove it. But saying newcomers are not welcome if they do not speak French is something else. Canada itself insists that immigrants know at least one of the two official languages, or promise to learn one. If Canada can impose such conditions, why can't Quebec impose conditions regardings its schools?
Further on, Kheiriddin complains of deteriorating municipal infrastructure and unreasonable waiting periods in hospitals. She believes whatever money will be spent applying Bill 115 would be better spent if invested in infrastructure or to address the problem of delays in the medical system. But the problem of wait times and crumbling infrastructure is not limited to Quebec. What should Ontario cut to address the crumbling infrastructure in Ottawa or Toronto?
Kheiriddin says Quebec is choosing language purity over prosperity. (To be fair, the term "linguistic purity" should be defined. But again, I digress...) What she does not say is why one must necessarily preclude the other. The columnist does not seem to accept the possibility that both can coexist and even complement each other. She also said that Quebec is depriving itself of young immigrants by applying its language policy at a time where the population is aging. What then of Spain, Mexico, Sweden, Germany, Italy, Brazil? When moving to a new country, one must learn the local language. And if I move to a new province, I should learn the language used in that region too.
Finally, she complained that Quebec would received equalization payments despite – or given – its language policy. She says that Quebec can afford to offer seven-dollars-a-day daycare and free in vitro fertilization services only because it receives equalization payments. If an English-speaking province applied an English version of Quebec’s Language Charter and offered seven-dollars-a-day daycare, would she be so critical?
The two solitudes still exist. And some people and institutions seem determined to make sure they live on.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Food Crisis
A few weeks ago I heard a report on Radio-Canada’s La semaine verte TV show about the impending world food crisis. We heard, among other things, about the growing of Jatropha Curcas in parts of India.
Is this the miracle product that will allow everyone to eat their fill? Far from it! It’s actually a plant that for some time seemed to be a promising source of biofuel. Unlike edible plants, like corn, Jatropha Curcas is not a food source. Growing corn for fuel instead of food creates food scarcity and raises prices, making it harder for poorer people to make ends meet. Growing a toxic plant like Jatropha Curcas for biofuel doesn’t raise the same moral dilemma.
But the report says a moral question of another type has been raised. Jatropha Curcas is being grown on a large scale in an area of Chhattisgarh, India. Some 18 families who collectively owned the land saw it taken away by authorities. They can no longer grow their own food and cannot feed themselves or their cattle. They now depend on food donations.
These families hardly see any benefit to growing a plant like Jatropha Curcas. The plant is as toxic to them as it is to their animals. The plant itself cannot be used for heating, and since none of them use motorised vehicles, they don’t need its fuel. In short, the plant is of no use them.
The authorities planned to use so-called infertile and degraded land since it was thought at the time that it could grow almost anywhere and wouldn’t require much water. The problem is many areas said to be arid and semi-arid were actually inhabited and used by local and indigenous communities. In other words, the land was productive. Force was often used against these vulnerable peoples, violating their right to subsistence.
There is also the matter of disappearing human cultures. These people lived off the land for at least decades, perhaps centuries. Tearing them away from the land and stripping them of the right to use to make a living has led to the end of a long tradition. Don’t blame modernity, because modernity would lead to improved production without compromising the lifestyle. In this case, the lifestyle has been totally turned upside because others saw an opportunity to make lots of money.
But the worst part is the experiment seems doomed to certain failure. Yes, the plant can grow in less fertile land, but its yield has not met expectations. "This is not a wasteland crop. It needs fertiliser, water and good management," according to another Internet report.
In the same TV report, there was talk of Senegalese who were fishing off the coast. The only truly modern tool used by these modern Senegalese fishermen was an outboard motor. But fishing isn’t so good these days because of large fishing boats from other countries with greater fish-catching ability. When the next generation comes of age, will there still be someone to teach them how to fish traditionally? And if so, will any fish be left?
Is this the miracle product that will allow everyone to eat their fill? Far from it! It’s actually a plant that for some time seemed to be a promising source of biofuel. Unlike edible plants, like corn, Jatropha Curcas is not a food source. Growing corn for fuel instead of food creates food scarcity and raises prices, making it harder for poorer people to make ends meet. Growing a toxic plant like Jatropha Curcas for biofuel doesn’t raise the same moral dilemma.
But the report says a moral question of another type has been raised. Jatropha Curcas is being grown on a large scale in an area of Chhattisgarh, India. Some 18 families who collectively owned the land saw it taken away by authorities. They can no longer grow their own food and cannot feed themselves or their cattle. They now depend on food donations.
These families hardly see any benefit to growing a plant like Jatropha Curcas. The plant is as toxic to them as it is to their animals. The plant itself cannot be used for heating, and since none of them use motorised vehicles, they don’t need its fuel. In short, the plant is of no use them.
The authorities planned to use so-called infertile and degraded land since it was thought at the time that it could grow almost anywhere and wouldn’t require much water. The problem is many areas said to be arid and semi-arid were actually inhabited and used by local and indigenous communities. In other words, the land was productive. Force was often used against these vulnerable peoples, violating their right to subsistence.
There is also the matter of disappearing human cultures. These people lived off the land for at least decades, perhaps centuries. Tearing them away from the land and stripping them of the right to use to make a living has led to the end of a long tradition. Don’t blame modernity, because modernity would lead to improved production without compromising the lifestyle. In this case, the lifestyle has been totally turned upside because others saw an opportunity to make lots of money.
But the worst part is the experiment seems doomed to certain failure. Yes, the plant can grow in less fertile land, but its yield has not met expectations. "This is not a wasteland crop. It needs fertiliser, water and good management," according to another Internet report.
In the same TV report, there was talk of Senegalese who were fishing off the coast. The only truly modern tool used by these modern Senegalese fishermen was an outboard motor. But fishing isn’t so good these days because of large fishing boats from other countries with greater fish-catching ability. When the next generation comes of age, will there still be someone to teach them how to fish traditionally? And if so, will any fish be left?
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
He who loses his faith
In French, there is a saying: He who loses his language loses his faith. But what about people who lost their faith while maintaining the language?
Regular readers know my thoughts on the existence of a supreme being. In short, I do not believe it. However, in Franco-Acadian New Brunswick, religion and education have been virtually inseparable more than a century, even after Canada gave itself the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which calls for religious neutrality, at least according to case law.
That said, I do understand the historical basis for the entanglement. As in Quebec, French language instruction in New Brunswick had been left to priests and nuns in the earliest times. There were probably efforts to recruit new clergy members, but there were also, especially for priests and nuns who were born and raised in the province, a desire to see Acadian society develop. And social and economic development requires education.
Before 1872, education throughout the province was problematic at best, especially among the Acadians. For several years, a provincial minister, George Edwin King, led a movement to change things, promoting the idea of a system of public schools to replace separate (religious) schools. Education would be free, that is, paid through public funds, and would be available to all regardless of language, religion, sex and economic status of a student's family.
However, the separate school system allowed some Acadians to be schooled in institutions that were both Catholic and French. English-speaking Catholics, although generally reluctant to support the French cause, also wanted to keep their separate schools. Given the general lack of support for non-denominational schools, King withdrew his first bill.
Later, when he became head of the provincial executive committee (today, we would call him Premier), King introduced a similar bill and faced the same opposition from both the public and many members of the Legislative Assembly. In the end, two opponents were offered attractive government positions in return for siding with the provincial administrative body, and the Common Schools Act was finally passed in 1871, and came into effect in 1872.
The new law prohibited any religious symbols from being displayed in school building, and teachers were prohibited from wearing religious uniforms. In addition, people who still wanted their children to attend a religious school had to pay twice, both the tax imposed by government for public education, even if their child did not attend public school, and the tuition fees of the non-public institution where their child was enrolled. This may seem normal today, but it wasn't the case during the 1870s.
Over the years that followed, Catholics, encouraged by their spiritual leaders, demonstrated against this law in various ways. This would eventually lead to a tragic event in 1875. Following a protest outside the house of a member of the provincial executive committee, the militia was dispatched to Caraquet. Some Acadians, who had gathered in a house to discuss the events, hid in the attic when they saw the militia coming. In the minutes that followed, two people were killed, a militiaman, John Gilford, and an Acadian, Louis Mailloux. Few people remember Gilford today, but Mailloux's name has been given to a school in Caraquet.
Wishing to avoid any further tragedies, and perhaps fearing the reaction of the rest of the country, the provincial government offered a compromise. The wearing of religious uniform was allowed and Catechism would be taught in schools outside the official hours of instruction. Catholic clergy accepted this compromise and then encouraged the people to pay the school tax and send their children to school.
What about French education? This would lead to a different struggle that Acadians, by and large, had to fight on their own, without the help of clergy.
In 1867, the year of Canadian Confederation, the Acadian population lived mainly outside of mainstream society. Some Acadians became merchants and there were a few Acadian priests in the two existing dioceses, Saint John and Chatham. Lawyers and doctors were still years away. The English controlled trade and government.
As for clergy, the higher posts of the Catholic Church in New Brunswick were held by English-speaking Irish. In his book, Un siècle de revendications scolaires au Nouveau-Brunswick, 1871-1971, author Alexander-J. Savoie presents an excerpt from a letter from the founder of the Moniteur Acadien, Israël J. D. Landry, to historian Rameau de Saint-Père. Here's my translation:
Faced with such opposition, Landry might have been tempted thumb his nose at the clergy. But the Church played such a prominent role in society at the time that this would have been unthinkable. So with the help of some sympathetic clergy, the Acadians worked for years to "Acadianise" the clergy and have a small part of the Church they so willingly followed. In this respect, they succeeded.
Acadian society is not what it used to be. These people with no land to call their own defined themselves through two seemingly immutable characteristics: the French language and the Roman Catholic faith. But the Church has lost ground in recent decades, perhaps less in Acadia than in Quebec, but it has still lost ground. Many Acadians are no longer ruled by the Church, but continue to show a great affection for the French language.
Some continue to attend church out of respect for tradition. But we can respect the past without living in it. We are past the days of horse carriages and inkwells. Acadians themselves now live in an era of automobiles and computers. Acadia as a nation could do the same.
Regular readers know my thoughts on the existence of a supreme being. In short, I do not believe it. However, in Franco-Acadian New Brunswick, religion and education have been virtually inseparable more than a century, even after Canada gave itself the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which calls for religious neutrality, at least according to case law.
That said, I do understand the historical basis for the entanglement. As in Quebec, French language instruction in New Brunswick had been left to priests and nuns in the earliest times. There were probably efforts to recruit new clergy members, but there were also, especially for priests and nuns who were born and raised in the province, a desire to see Acadian society develop. And social and economic development requires education.
Before 1872, education throughout the province was problematic at best, especially among the Acadians. For several years, a provincial minister, George Edwin King, led a movement to change things, promoting the idea of a system of public schools to replace separate (religious) schools. Education would be free, that is, paid through public funds, and would be available to all regardless of language, religion, sex and economic status of a student's family.
However, the separate school system allowed some Acadians to be schooled in institutions that were both Catholic and French. English-speaking Catholics, although generally reluctant to support the French cause, also wanted to keep their separate schools. Given the general lack of support for non-denominational schools, King withdrew his first bill.
Later, when he became head of the provincial executive committee (today, we would call him Premier), King introduced a similar bill and faced the same opposition from both the public and many members of the Legislative Assembly. In the end, two opponents were offered attractive government positions in return for siding with the provincial administrative body, and the Common Schools Act was finally passed in 1871, and came into effect in 1872.
The new law prohibited any religious symbols from being displayed in school building, and teachers were prohibited from wearing religious uniforms. In addition, people who still wanted their children to attend a religious school had to pay twice, both the tax imposed by government for public education, even if their child did not attend public school, and the tuition fees of the non-public institution where their child was enrolled. This may seem normal today, but it wasn't the case during the 1870s.
Over the years that followed, Catholics, encouraged by their spiritual leaders, demonstrated against this law in various ways. This would eventually lead to a tragic event in 1875. Following a protest outside the house of a member of the provincial executive committee, the militia was dispatched to Caraquet. Some Acadians, who had gathered in a house to discuss the events, hid in the attic when they saw the militia coming. In the minutes that followed, two people were killed, a militiaman, John Gilford, and an Acadian, Louis Mailloux. Few people remember Gilford today, but Mailloux's name has been given to a school in Caraquet.
Wishing to avoid any further tragedies, and perhaps fearing the reaction of the rest of the country, the provincial government offered a compromise. The wearing of religious uniform was allowed and Catechism would be taught in schools outside the official hours of instruction. Catholic clergy accepted this compromise and then encouraged the people to pay the school tax and send their children to school.
What about French education? This would lead to a different struggle that Acadians, by and large, had to fight on their own, without the help of clergy.
In 1867, the year of Canadian Confederation, the Acadian population lived mainly outside of mainstream society. Some Acadians became merchants and there were a few Acadian priests in the two existing dioceses, Saint John and Chatham. Lawyers and doctors were still years away. The English controlled trade and government.
As for clergy, the higher posts of the Catholic Church in New Brunswick were held by English-speaking Irish. In his book, Un siècle de revendications scolaires au Nouveau-Brunswick, 1871-1971, author Alexander-J. Savoie presents an excerpt from a letter from the founder of the Moniteur Acadien, Israël J. D. Landry, to historian Rameau de Saint-Père. Here's my translation:
It would be impossible to describe to you all the harassment I was subject to since I started publishing an Acadian newspaper. The Irish clergy (in the counties of Westmorland and Kent) said publicly in their churches that "Mr. Landry came to separate the French Catholics from the Irish, Scottish, etc. ..." You see, there is concern that the poor Acadians may learn and work to retain their language. The Irish clergy (which has already lost its own language) said there should be only one language in this country, and that language is English.
Faced with such opposition, Landry might have been tempted thumb his nose at the clergy. But the Church played such a prominent role in society at the time that this would have been unthinkable. So with the help of some sympathetic clergy, the Acadians worked for years to "Acadianise" the clergy and have a small part of the Church they so willingly followed. In this respect, they succeeded.
Acadian society is not what it used to be. These people with no land to call their own defined themselves through two seemingly immutable characteristics: the French language and the Roman Catholic faith. But the Church has lost ground in recent decades, perhaps less in Acadia than in Quebec, but it has still lost ground. Many Acadians are no longer ruled by the Church, but continue to show a great affection for the French language.
Some continue to attend church out of respect for tradition. But we can respect the past without living in it. We are past the days of horse carriages and inkwells. Acadians themselves now live in an era of automobiles and computers. Acadia as a nation could do the same.
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