Prior to settling in Alberta, I was unaware that its francophone community faced considerable challenges. I was born in Cameroon and have lived in France, so I had never encountered this issue. Being a francophone teacher in Alberta is much like growing a baobab tree in the sand: you need patience and deep faith in your roots.
I do little things every day that help to bring French to life in the classroom and at school: I speak French, validate students’ ways of expressing themselves, highlight inspiring francophone role models, play French music in the background and celebrate francophone events. These actions require energy, passion and creativity. My life as a francophone teacher in Alberta is a rewarding experience.
Over the course of the school year, I do these small things in working with students, and they gradually regain their self-confidence. What I find gratifying is to see students who don’t speak French at home take ownership of their francophone identity, especially when a French-speaking visitor comes to their home. One time, a joyful student approached me and proudly announced: “Madame, we had my parents’ friends over this weekend. I spoke French with their son because he doesn’t understand English very well.” I felt very proud. At times like these, I realize that my small gestures have an impact that goes beyond our school community.
[It’s] much like growing a baobab tree in the sand: you need patience and deep faith in your roots.
My work as a teacher in a minority setting, while fulfilling, presents many challenges: an acute lack of context-appropriate French-language teaching resources, inadequate infrastructure and funding for francophone activities, and at times, the professional isolation that goes with being the only francophone on staff in a predominantly English-speaking school. I often have to encourage parents to maintain the use of French at home and invite them to register their children for francophone activities.
After settling in Alberta, I discovered that there are political and linguistic issues surrounding the francophone community. It’s not just about language—more than that, it’s about identity and rights. Francophone education enables young people to connect with a culture and understand that they are an integral part of Canada’s history. It gives them the chance to be bilingual. To me, this illustrates the true importance of francophone education in a minority setting and provides the motivation to contribute to the cause through teaching.
Case in point: a student would tell me that he didn’t like speaking French. I had often explained to him the advantages of a French-language education and wouldn’t let this discourage me. As we worked together, I discovered that he enjoyed my food studies class, where we would prepare French pastries while listening to French music. When his parents decided to travel to France, they had to rely on their child, since they did not speak French. Once they arrived in France, the student realized how important it was to be fluent in the local language. He became his parents’ interpreter. When they returned, he came to see me and said, “Madame, I spoke French during the entire trip. It went really well. My parents didn’t understand, and I translated for them.” He was quite proud.
That day, I understood that francophone education had just planted a seed on this student’s path and that, even in a predominantly English-speaking environment, francophone culture can endure and francophone identity can be maintained with sufficient patience, pride and resilience.