(Photographic illustration of Maclean’sphotographs courtesy of Getty Images and Joël Louiseize)
I grew up in Sturgeon Falls, a small community in northern Ontario, near the Quebec border. My family is Franco-Ontarian, so I grew up speaking French. In 2013 I moved to Toronto to study music production; I wanted to write and record music professionally. After graduating, I backpacked through Europe and worked odd jobs across Canada for several years. In 2018, I settled in the Muskoka, Ontario region with my girlfriend, Kaitlyn. I had finished traveling and wanted to put down roots somewhere. She hoped to get certified as a teacher and make music at the same time. We started working in hotels: I worked in the kitchen and maintaining the gardens, and she was in charge of administration and reception.
When I visited Montreal for the first time, I fell in love with the vibrant music scene. I thought it was a fantastic environment to grow as an artist, with many job opportunities for Kaitlyn and I, especially compared to our life in a small town. The city also had excellent universities, such as McGill and Concordia, where I was able to earn a bachelor’s degree in education and then enroll in teacher college. Kaitlyn was hesitant about the move, mainly because she didn’t speak any French. But I told him that there were a lot of English-speaking people in Montreal and that we would fit in without any problems.
We officially moved to Montreal in June 2022. We both found jobs in a warehouse: I did inventory and product photography in the back, and Kaitlyn had an administrative job in the front. We got a one-bedroom apartment in the Rosemont neighborhood, near the Olympic stadium. My plan was to work full time for a year and save up to start school in the fall of 2023. Long term, I hoped to teach in Montreal and eventually buy a house north of the city.
READ: “Financially, it would be catastrophic”: a university director on tuition increases in Quebec
That first summer was exciting. I rode my bike, exploring the city’s beautiful parks and historic buildings. However, from the beginning we began to notice language problems. One day, a librarian refused to speak to me in French, even though I am a French speaker; I guess my Franco-Ontarian dialect threw her off and she decided flatly that I spoke English, not French. Those types of incidents kept happening. I would go shopping and speak French to the employees, who would look at me confused, sometimes even annoyed, and then respond in English.
Things were worse for Kaitlyn. A couple of times, store clerks openly mocked her lack of French. After that, she just used self-checkout or relied on me to pay for things. Then, in February 2023, she was in a serious car accident. Dazed and in pain, she tried to tell the hospital receptionists what had happened to her, but they acted as if they couldn’t understand a word of English. She managed to find a security guard willing to interpret for her. Once she started talking to the staff, she suddenly all switched to perfect English. Those surrealists, Kafkaesque These types of experiences left us both bewildered. We began to feel unwanted in a city we had tried to adopt as our new home. The more we tried to integrate, the more people seemed to reject our efforts.
Last summer, I was accepted into Concordia University’s arts and sciences certificate program. Then, in October, shortly after I started my first semester, the Quebec government made its now infamous announcement that tuition for out-of-province Canadian students would almost double, from about $9,000 to $17,000 a year, to starting in 2024. Although I lived in Montreal I was still considered out of province because I had not obtained official residency in Quebec. In December, the province announced it would reduce the scope of the increases to just $12,000, as long as the vast majority of out-of-province students also learned French before graduating. But the difference is still an enormous burden, from a bureaucratic and financial point of view. The announcement clarified that existing students would not be affected, but that did not exempt me. When I declare my major after two years of study, I will be classified as a new student and my tuition will skyrocket.
I was stunned and confused. I went to a financial aid office to ask what I could do about the tuition increase. His suggestion was clear: apply for official residence in Quebec immediately. After living in Montreal for more than a year, I was eligible, but the option seemed like a forced commitment, a leap into the unknown without fully experiencing life in the city. we were already having We were hesitant to stay in Quebec long-term due to the disappointing treatment we had received from the locals. To make things worse they were provincial French language reform laws such as Bill 96, which appears to punish non-French-speaking immigrants by requiring them to receive government services exclusively in French six months after their arrival. We felt like outsiders, unappreciated and unwanted, no matter how hard we tried to fit in.
There were other people who had it even worse than us. What happens to students who need to work during the summers in their home provinces to pay for their studies? Obtaining residency in Quebec was not an option for them. What about high school students across Canada who have worked hard to get into schools like McGill? This tuition increase completely ruined their plans. It was so unfair.
The Quebec government justified the increase in tuition stating that it would generate additional funds from out-of-province students. These funds would then be allocated to French-language universities, which typically attract fewer students from outside Quebec and consequently generate less revenue. But this justification ignores the fact that out-of-province students contribute to Quebec’s economy through taxes, rent and support for local businesses. In most cases, out-of-province students do not rely on financial support from Quebec (my tuition is covered by Ontario’s student assistance program, for example), so we are also generating tuition income from other sources. provinces. This increase will discourage many out-of-province students from choosing Quebec, which could result in a net loss for the province rather than a benefit.
Quebec government exempts new French and French-speaking Belgian students, from the increase in enrollment. Despite being a native French speaker and having been educated in French, I am denied the exemption granted to international students. Seems like a strange choice, considering There are more than 600,000 French speakers in Ontario some of whom will now look the other way rather than consider Quebec’s potential. The tuition increase was clearly done, at least in part, in an effort to reduce the amount of English spoken in the province.
Montreal has long been celebrated as a multicultural and inclusive city, but I don’t know if that’s still true. Canada is built on multiculturalism and yet Quebec Premier François Legault has spoken of the need to struggle multiculturalism. Quebec is effectively circumventing Canada’s Multiculturalism Act by dismantling bilingual aspects of everyday life: people have a right to their culture as long as it is within the French framework. I’ve seen these identity games in the shocking treatment Kaitlyn received in that hospital last year. How will these knock-on effects affect non-French speakers who find themselves in much more vulnerable and precarious situations?
READ: Work with immigrants in Quebec. The province’s new language rules are dangerous.
All of these thoughts were running through my head as I considered my two options: invest more in my future in Quebec or take an alternative path. In the end, the tuition increase was the final straw. It’s too late for us. It is not worth devoting more time and energy to Quebec, especially with the possibility of even more changes coming in the coming years.
We are frustrated and disappointed. We tried to establish a life here, especially Kaitlyn, who tried to learn French, but she found it difficult to juggle language classes with full-time work. Kaitlyn has requested a transfer to her company’s Toronto office. My plan is to complete my first year at Concordia (luckily I’m still only paying original tuition) and then transfer to a school in Toronto the following semester. We have already started looking for a place to live in Toronto. We know that the cost of living there is much higher compared to Montreal, but we hope to find a more inclusive and multicultural atmosphere. Although French is my first language, I constantly immerse myself in English media and books and consider it part of my cultural identity, and it is something I want to keep without barriers. The decision to leave Quebec wasn’t just about escaping tuition increases. It was about finding a new home where we feel valued and accepted for who we are.
—As told to Ali Amad