Language shock in the classroom

by Phyllis Dalley, Ottawa, Ontario

It is 8:30 a.m. in the school yard of a French-language high school in Alberta. Students are speaking English, waiting for the bell to ring. Further away, another group speaks in a language that is not easily recognizable. Maybe it is Swahili, Kinyarwanda, Creole or Arabic.

This school accepts a growing number of young immigrants from African countries and, as elsewhere, groups of friends are often formed based on ethnic origin or race. Students are aware of this: “You have the Quebecers, the French, the Acadians, the Rwandans and the Moroccans,” one of them explains to me.

Siméon, who stays in the background, has recently started attending this school. Siméon is his Christian name, the one he uses most often with white people. His parents insisted on enrolling their children in a French-language school because they believe that French is a prestigious language. In any case, their children do not speak English.

Siméon clearly remembers his first day at school. He was surprised to hear so much English spoken in the hallway; so much, in fact, that he wondered whether he was in the right place. He was even more surprised when he heard his fellow students and his teacher speak French. He was amazed by the variety of accents, vocabulary and ways of speaking.

Often, he does not understand what other people are saying to him or he cannot make himself understood. Moreover, he does not understand why his teacher lets other students interrupt him and question his knowledge. Siméon sees this as a lack of respect and, as a result, this authority figure loses credibility in his eyes.

Siméon has difficulty understanding the rules of conduct in the classroom. Once, he continued talking when the teacher had given a signal (a smile, crossing his arms or a particular posture) to tell the class to settle down. Siméon was then singled out and asked to stop talking, and he felt unjustly reprimanded. The teacher asked Siméon to come talk to him after class.

This meeting worries Siméon. In his native country, it could only mean a severe reprimand. He does not tell anyone about it because he feels too ashamed. His fear turns into silence, a silence the teacher interprets as disrespect or a lack of cooperation. The tension increases. The teacher tries to establish a dialogue with Siméon as part of the educational process, the process of teaching values and social skills. But Siméon and his parents expect the school to take care of schooling, in other words, the transmission of knowledge. Education, as they understand it, is the exclusive responsibility of the child’s family and the community to which the child belongs.

Siméon is also having trouble making friends. Even though some of his classmates talk to him in the classroom, they forget about him once they get out in the schoolyard with their groups of friends. English, which Siméon does not understand, is the language of socialization used by many of these groups. Siméon feels a strong need to learn this language. 

Siméon’s parents really want their children to go on to university. Since the opportunities to attend university in French in Alberta are limited, they tell the school administration that their children urgently need to learn English. They suggest that half of the classes be taught in English. The school administration sees this as a return to bilingual schools—a source of assimilation for many Francophones—and rejects this option right away.

Siméon’s parents decide to enrol him in an immersion school. However, the problem remains because this school does not offer any English second language classes. To access English second language classes, Siméon needs to attend an English-language school and give up on obtaining an education in French. In the end, he returns to the French-language school, where English second language classes are now being offered. He also takes his social science class in English, but in an alternative French-language school near his high school. His parents also enrol him in an English immersion summer camp.

***

Siméon is a fictitious character. I drafted this narrative based on stories of young immigrants from African countries whom I met as part of a research program funded by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

I wanted to illustrate the complexity of the issue of integration of young Francophone immigrants into minority schools. At first glance, their integration problems appear to be mostly connected with the tendency of other students to speak in English among themselves. The situation is far more complex, although learning English is a key issue.

Young immigrants arrive in a school where the Francophonie does not look at all like what they had imagined. Moreover, the teaching staff does not act according to the school norms the newcomers are used to. To better understand each other, teachers and students must therefore come up with new rules of communication.

Although more guidance for young immigrants is required, many French-language schools have made progress. Access to courses in English in the French-language system has improved. Teachers are always striving to use innovative methods to meet the learning needs of young immigrants, while liaison workers facilitate communication between the school and families.