Ça va bien. Et vous?
As a Canadian child, everyone learns French in elementary and junior high (and often high school as well). I believe it's in the hopes that it will encourage more of Canada to be bilingual, unfortunately...I grew up in Alberta where Francophones are reviled. I'm not kidding. It is perfectly normal for people to insult Québec (the French province) and its people. It's especially common in rural areas. This is largely due to the fact that Albertans believe they are responsible for sustaining Québec with oil revenue. While some Canadians dislike the French, the feeling was mutual. At one point Québec threatened to leave Canada and actually held a referendum. The vote was 50.58% against leaving with a 93.52% voter turnout. The 2016 US Election had a mere 55% turnout, and in 2008 (Barack's campaign year) there was only a 57.1% turnout. So yeah, Québec was deeply divided and invested. I've often heard Albertans lament the fact they didn't leave.
I may be Albertan, but my father is from Saskatchewan (the province next door), and my mother is from...dun dun DUN...Québec. While my father grew up in the prairies, my mother had grown up in Montréal-Nord with a large Catholic family. This was before the Quiet Revolution, so health care and education were in the hands of the Catholic Church - along with everyday life. It was the duty of every good Catholic woman to have as many children as possible. The Church expected to have loyal parishioners, but instead my mother and all of her siblings decided they weren't Catholic. When she left home, she left all of Québec behind, and eventually came out west to settle down. By the time I was a child, I never heard a drop of French. When my sister and I were a bit older, she taught us a few things to appease our adolescent curiosity, but that was it.
Part of growing up was pointing out how snobby the French are. Some schools had something called, "French Immersion" which meant that every class would be taught in French. One school I attended had split the school in two, some students were taught in English and some in French. This created a very real division in socializing. French kids stuck together and conversed in French blatantly, followed by sneers and laughter. As an Anglophone, it felt very rude. So began the theme of snobby French. While the French kids stood united in their secret language, everyone else commented on their attitudes. Bienvenue au petit Canada. While that behaviour was fairly tame, when I was in grade 4 during a parent-teacher night, my French teacher reprimanded me for being a failure in French class. She actually scolded my mother. Luckily my mother laughed it off, but I was incredibly embarrassed and hurt.
So why is an Albertan like me learning French? I'm part French, so that helps, but more importantly being bilingual opens a lot of doors. Especially if you ever want to be involved in politics or government. If I can manage to learn French as a second language, it'll be equivalent to a rebirth. Plus, better to try now and not later so I'm the object of public humiliation for weeks after...*ahem*
At the moment, I'm going to be taking French lessons until May. So far I've already learned more than my combined time in school. Who knows, maybe this could work out for me...
Here's the link for the gallery upload this week!
Next update will be February 17!
I read an article recently about how movies were horribly inaccurate in regards to in-laws. I attempted to find the article again but unfortunately no luck. I will update if I find it.
Regardless, I just shook my head. Obviously the author of said article has not dated OR they have had the incredibly rare luck of finding mates with decent, genuine in-laws. I am almost entirely convinced that such a thing does not exist.
In the article, the writer mentioned the film "Monster-in-Law" as being ridiculously dramatic but frankly, they are wrong. Okay, fair enough, some of the events are quite over-the-top however not unlikely.
I've had some experience with "in-laws" and let me tell you, I would recommend avoiding the in-laws, forever. There is no real reason to meet in-laws unless you're getting married. I know that might sound rude or something but let's face it, once you're over 21 your parents are not the decision makers. If they are, you have a problem. I'm specifically speaking about mama's boys - stay the hell away from any man who "loves his mommy". That is a waste of time. You will always be second, if not last.
The very first boyfriend I had was a mama's boy. I wish I had known something about that beforehand. I had no idea that one person could have such an influence over someone's life. I know that when I make decisions that the only opinion that matters is my own. I will consider input from my family or very close friends but ultimately I will have to live with the decision.
Good day to you all!
Starting today I will be writing a story segment every Sunday. The theme will be a story my mother used to tell me when I was a young girl before I went to sleep. My younger sister and brother and I would sit around, listening to my mother spin tales I've never heard. In homage to my mother I will re-create the tales and share them with you, my readers.
The City of Gold
There was a young girl, curious and sweet, always in search of answers to life's mysteries. She would ask questions about everything, always desperate to learn more. One night after she was put to bed she found herself restless. She could never sleep. So she got out of bed and stood in her room, peering through the murky light of the moon. She walked towards her closet and opened the folding door. It was a small and modest closet with only a few things hanging. Her family had recently moved into the house and everything still felt unsettled. She still felt a panging curiosity to explore the house and get to know every nook and cranny. She loved exploring. It made her feel like an adventurer. Her favourite thing to do was seek out mystery and solve it.
She stood in front of her open closet and stared, seeing only the darkness. She kneeled on the floor and examined the odd protuberance; it looked like a carpeted bench in her closet. It was odd to her since she had never seen anything like it. Her family moved often and every house was very similar. Sometimes there were minute differences but mostly closets stayed the same. Yet this closet was different. This odd carpeted bench made her think. It made her imagination spin and whir thinking of all the possibilities. So her tiny hands reached out, feeling the object. It felt just like the carpet did. She loved the texture on her hands but couldn't help feel disappointed that it felt normal. Her hands continued to search around, feeling every centimeter.
She withdrew her hands feeling a spasm of disappointment. There had to be something different about it. There had to be. Otherwise it was just a normal house and she was just a normal girl and nothing special would ever happen. She sat in front of her closet feeling her head spin with frustration. She just had to be more thorough, really look at it. She glanced at the switch to her ceiling light, wondering if she could turn it on without anyone noticing. She doubted it. Her mother seemed to patrol the hallway, sensing if something was not quite right. She knew she had to maintain absolute silence in the dark if she hoped to stay up and discover the closet's secret.
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