Proud?
Saturday, December 02, 2006
It occured to me earlier today that I am doing something rather significant.
See, any unfortunate chap who has to go to school must learn Canadian history. Unless you're the type of unfortunate chap who studies French Canadian history, you might miss out on the countless battles fought between "Canada-Haut" and "Canada-Bas", the English and the French of Canada's early 1800's.
End of the long story: English conquer, but unlike any conquering as before, the French are allowed to keep their way of life...? How odd.
In any case, today, the French fight like cornered dogs to preserve their culture, their way of life, their language. Some of them are so persistent about who they are and their background that they insist on severing themselves from the Confederation. How unfortunate that some would be so inclined.
But it was this thought that occured to me: that I, in contact with any number of said individuals daily, play a small but perhaps relevant part in the bridging of a cultural gap. They come to me with a problem, and with a smile on my face and a burden on my mind, I am able to help them, in their own language. An anglophone, making the effort. They're all very pleasent, even the angry ones, when they're done with me on the phone, tell me, "You're quite nice" and "I thank you very, very much"--even the ones to whom I have to tell them that I can't help them.
They're growing on me, these strange people. Speaking to them in their language makes me feel like "them" become "us"--it makes me proud to be a Canadian. We are diversified, but we are together.
See, any unfortunate chap who has to go to school must learn Canadian history. Unless you're the type of unfortunate chap who studies French Canadian history, you might miss out on the countless battles fought between "Canada-Haut" and "Canada-Bas", the English and the French of Canada's early 1800's.
End of the long story: English conquer, but unlike any conquering as before, the French are allowed to keep their way of life...? How odd.
In any case, today, the French fight like cornered dogs to preserve their culture, their way of life, their language. Some of them are so persistent about who they are and their background that they insist on severing themselves from the Confederation. How unfortunate that some would be so inclined.
But it was this thought that occured to me: that I, in contact with any number of said individuals daily, play a small but perhaps relevant part in the bridging of a cultural gap. They come to me with a problem, and with a smile on my face and a burden on my mind, I am able to help them, in their own language. An anglophone, making the effort. They're all very pleasent, even the angry ones, when they're done with me on the phone, tell me, "You're quite nice" and "I thank you very, very much"--even the ones to whom I have to tell them that I can't help them.
They're growing on me, these strange people. Speaking to them in their language makes me feel like "them" become "us"--it makes me proud to be a Canadian. We are diversified, but we are together.