“Why are we so invisible?” I've heard this question wherever Franco-Americans gather, be it through my social media contacts,
at conferences, or at my occasional speaking engagements. The history of
Franco-Americans is all but left out of the historical accounts on both sides
of the border. It couldn’t be more missing among the history of U.S. ethnic
groups. And it is largely unknown in Québec.
For example, Maine is among the top three Francophone
states but this fact is all but unknown outside its borders and to a large
degree within them. I received an e-mail from a mover and shaker from that
state who wanted to discuss the “lack of diversity” in Maine. When I responded
that about one-quarter of the state was Franco-American/Acadian, and suggested
that people with a unique linguistic and cultural heritage counted toward the
diversity in the state, the conversation came to a screeching halt. A group that reflects the actual cultural diversity of the region has been subsumed into whiteness.
They’re “non-Hispanic White” per the U.S. Census and therefore do not count
towards diversity in 2016.
Our long history throughout North America is
connected with various narratives of U.S. history: the “French-And
Indian War,” the War of 1812, Westward expansion, Industrialization, Nativism,
the story of the Roman Catholic Church in the USA, etc. Any one of these
narratives should include either Franco-Americans or our Canadien and Acadien
forbears. With the exception of the “French-And Indian War” narrative, where
they figure as bitter enemies, they’re almost completely missing.
For example, one-third of the participants in the Lewis
& Clark expedition were Francophones but one never hears of this. Sometimes
they’re mentioned as a faceless, nameless herd: “the French voyageurs.” The
fact is, Lewis & Clark couldn’t have managed without them.
The invisibility extends, in fact, to a history wider than the
Franco-Americans in the Northeast USA. The cloak of invisibility falls over all of the descendants of the
former Nouvelle-France. I use this term Nouvelle-France in the
sense in which it embraces the entirety of the former 17th and 18th c.
French sphere of influence in North America including l’Acadie, le Canada (both
the St. Lawrence valley and the Great Lakes region) and la Louisiane (the
territory roughly corresponding to the USA’s Louisiana Purchase south of the
Great Lakes).
If one totals up these descendants of Nouvelle-France on
both sides of the border they number some 20 million people. It’s hard to hide
a population of 20 million under one's hat but so far the writers of
history, beyond specialists in certain areas or topics, have performed the disappearing act.
There must be reasons for this invisibilty. Yes, our population tends to be localized in the Northeast, the Great Lakes region, the Gulf Coast and a few other pockets. But other groups, such as Scandinavians in the upper Midwest, were also localized without becoming invisible. I don’t accept the explanation that this invisibility “just happened.” This is not an explanation.
How We Became Invisible
There are several reasons why I believe that the story of the Northeastern USA's Franco-Americans has
become invisible.
1) We are associated today with Canada and therefore
beneath the notice of most Americans.
The term most often used to describe us in American English is "French-Canadian" and both sides of this hyphen present obstacles in the minds of many Americans. Québécois of a nationalist bent make a distinction between Québec and Canada but that's a finesse of which most Americans are unaware. A "French-Canadian" is simply a type of Canadian for them.
The term most often used to describe us in American English is "French-Canadian" and both sides of this hyphen present obstacles in the minds of many Americans. Québécois of a nationalist bent make a distinction between Québec and Canada but that's a finesse of which most Americans are unaware. A "French-Canadian" is simply a type of Canadian for them.
To most
Americans, Canada is the USA’s little brother: the USA can beat him up and fail
to take him seriously, but they would defend him if a bully from another
neighborhood came along. Most Americans are ignorant as to the geography and
history of Canada. A current, photogenic Prime Minister notwithstanding, Canada
represents little more than clichés about beer, hockey and people who say “eh.”
When a presidential candidate arrives on the scene who scares one party or
another the “I’ll move to Canada!” drumbeat begins, but most of that talk is
fatuous.
This attitude, that Canada is nothing more than the 51st
state, explains why I was laughed at by an (East) Indian-American when I
suggested that one could emigrate from Canada. “That doesn’t count!” she
laughed.
“It counted enough,” I answered, “when the Ku Klux Klan
burned the ‘French-Canadian’ school in Leominster, Massachusetts in the 1920s.
They were quite sure that we were ‘other’ enough to count back then.”
“Wow, I didn’t know about that,” she said quietly.
“No one does,” I replied.
2) Our Canadien/Acadien ancestors were in North America
long before the United States and today’s Canada existed.
This complicates matters because historians, thinking in terms of today’s political geography, want to tell the story of the USA or the story of Canada. But our people’s tale does not fit neatly into that geography. They settled large parts of the USA before it was the USA, as the numerous French place names throughout the USA’s midsection testify: Detroit, Des Moines, Vincennes, Terre Haute, Des Plaines, St. Louis, New Orleans to name just a few.
This complicates matters because historians, thinking in terms of today’s political geography, want to tell the story of the USA or the story of Canada. But our people’s tale does not fit neatly into that geography. They settled large parts of the USA before it was the USA, as the numerous French place names throughout the USA’s midsection testify: Detroit, Des Moines, Vincennes, Terre Haute, Des Plaines, St. Louis, New Orleans to name just a few.
The English speakers who write the histories of the USA and
Canada write them from the standpoint of today’s national borders. They write
about these countries as separate entities while in fact the histories and
populations of the two countries are intertwined.
For example, there were large and important exchanges of
population originating from both sides of the border:
- The Acadians deported and scattered among the 13 colonies in the 1750s.
- The Loyalists escaping the nascent USA who settled in what is now Ontario and other future Canadian provinces in the Revolutionary War period and who were instrumental in the founding of English-Canada.
- The Creoles of Louisiana whose homes were bought by the Americans in the Louisiana Purchase (including the descendants of the aforementioned Acadians who ended up there).
- The Acadians in Northern Maine who became Americans when the Webster-Ashburton Treaty settled the USA’s Northeastern border in the 1840s. (Hint to the geography challenged: there’s territory east of Maine; not everything east of Maine is Atlantic Ocean.)
- The Canadiens and Acadiens who came in droves to the USA in the 1840-1930 period and whose descendants number some 10-12 million U.S. citizens today.
Since the story is told as two separate nations – either as Canadian History or as U.S. History – these interconnections are
missed. North of the border, the need to emphasize a common Canadian
nationhood, always a fragile construct, does not favor the story of a Franco-Canadien nation that crosses existing borders. While in
the USA, the history of “French-Canadians” seems to be the history of a foreign country.
3) We do not fit into the existing narratives of U.S.
settlement history.
The established narratives are as follows:
The established narratives are as follows:
a) Native Americans/First Nations – the original human
inhabitants of this continent. The majority of Americans tend to know little about them but increasingly feel they ought to.
b) Jamestown/Plymouth Rock – by this I mean the history of the 13
British colonies before and during the American Revolution. These
colonies included a range of ethnic groups such as the Dutch, Germans, and
Scots-Irish but this is generally told as an English history.
c) Ellis Island – this is my shorthand for 19th-early 20th c. emigration from
Europe, both before and after Ellis Island was established, including emigrants
from Ireland, Italy, Greece, and Jewish populations from Russia and Eastern
Europe and other peoples from many lands too numerous to mention.
d) People of Color – this frame has emerged relatively recently
in its current form. This narrative includes the African slaves who were
brought to these shores forcibly. It includes the Hispanic peoples either those
who settled parts of the USA before it was the USA, or those who entered the
country from points south. It also includes East Asian immigration, mainly
although not exclusively to the West. It also includes many other more recent emigrants from non-European countries. Native Americans are sometimes brought
into the people of color narrative. Native Hawaiians and Native Alaskans
might fit into this narrative but, sadly, their story is largely invisible as well.
There is simply no room for Franco-Americans in
these narratives. Although many have First Nations ancestors, they don’t fit
precisely into that narrative. They were the bitter opponents of the Jamestown/Plymouth
Rock bunch. There was
no Ellis Island, no Statue of Liberty to greet them when and where they crossed
the border. They’re not people of color either.
When certain allowable, accepted narratives have
been established, what doesn’t fit into these schemes becomes invisible.
4) Our national character.
The notion of a “national character” is
old-fashioned but in fact culture exists. There is a difference between
a generalization and a stereotype, and there are fair generalizations that can
be made about coherent cultural groups. And generally speaking, the culture of
the Franco-North American populations has emphasized tenacity, reliance on our
own, and a certain insular quality.
The anthropologist Horace Miner, studying a rural Québec parish in the 1930s, noted that someone from the next parish over was regarded almost as a foreigner. This tendency to fragment into smaller (and frequently squabbling) units has discouraged a telling of the story in its proper breadth. The history of Franco-Americans, when it has been told, tends to be parochial, i.e. the story of Woonsocket Francos, or of Maine Acadians, or even of individual families.
The national character also emphasizes humility,
another old-fashioned notion. This anachronism is heard again and again
in Franco-American conferences. A Maine Acadian wrote to me, “We were taught
that you don’t speak well of yourself. You let others speak well of you.”
In the USA of Donald Trump and Kanye West, this trait is radically counter-cultural.
If we don’t speak our piece then who will speak it for us?
Raising a Franco Ruckus
In her book Moving Beyond Duality,
psychologist Dorothy Riddle posits that making people invisible is a form of
depersonalization. I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that my family’s and
my entire people’s experience is insignificant and beneath notice and that I
should forget all about identifying as a Franco-American. The message here is, “People don’t know about you because you don’t count.”
Addressed to
any other ethnic group this notion would be insulting at the very least. It’s
the invisibility, whether it’s our own doing or someone else’s or some combination
of the two, that makes statements like this socially acceptable. In
fact, the converse is true: we haven't counted in the eyes of the wider culture because the story has remained
untold.
I’m tired of being called a “quiet presence.” I’m tired of blending into a pale, beige background labeled “non-Hispanic White.” It's un-Franco-American to do so, but perhaps it’s high time we raised what one of us called “a Franco ruckus.” Let the ruckus commence!
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