« Je m’excuse »!
« Comme plusieurs anglophones élevés au Québec, je me voyais comme une victime. Mais dans notre enclave, nous agissions souvent en bigots. »
Guilty Memories from an Anglo Montreal Childhood
Like many English speakers growing up in Quebec, I saw myself as a victim. But within our own enclaves, we often acted like bigots
By Jonathan Kay
When people hear me speak French, they often assume that I learned it at a Toronto high school. When possible, I let them persist under that delusion. The truth is that I spent the first quarter century of my life in Quebec, yet somehow failed to become anything close to bilingual. And it was not just me, though my French is worse than that of some of my childhood friends. The Montreal of my childhood was a place where many anglophones could exist in a bubble. Clustered densely in the western corners of Montreal, our neighbourhoods were still mostly sealed off from the province’s majority francophone population. I was among the last generation of Quebec anglos that believed we could live a full and successful life in the province without learning fluent French.