After the frustration of having to try and explain my contradictory feelings last night about the 1995 referendum in Québec to my boyfriend, who hails from Jolly Ole England, I went to bed. I was feeling very confused. Of course he was right; one second I'm cursing any muther who has the cojones to try and break up my kick-ass country and then the next I'm expressing a preternatural understanding of why Montréal Francophones wanted to strangle the maple leaves off the 'we love you Québec' protesters/well wishers from across Canada come to save our souls. What the hell was my problem?
Maybe it's because I think I understand a little of what drives the Separatist movement. Maybe 'understand' is a little strong, but I suppose I empathise with the fear of having one's culture slowly crushed by a more dominant or influencial one. Try being an Anglo where I live in Montréal. (Not that there's anything wrong with it...)
Not that I actually believe, as some clearly do, that Québecois culture is as weak and without defence as to require such grand protection. It is not, let's just say, as vulnerable as First Nations culture, by any means. We've really fucked them!
I mean, Québec culture has some pretty powerful and deep pocketed white-hairs running the show to make sure they don't go the way of the Dodo. Plus, as far as I can see the biggest threat to Québecois culture is the United States of America, not Enlgish Canada. I find it absurd that these little renegade 'patriotes' (small fucking p) running around Montréal with their flags and reminiscing about the Plains of Abraham are the same kids I see wearing Von Bitch t-shirts. The kids with the OUI patches still stuck to their backpacks are listening to maudite Britney Spears not Beau Dommage!
Hey, listen up, it's not YOUR culture in danger...it's ALL culture in danger!
Should we not be working on this (gasp) together? Yah. Just as soon as we stop hating each others' guts, I guess, right?
1 comment:
Right you are... But you stop hating us first!!!
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