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Sitting on the stoop outside the Bank of Montreal and Timothy's coffee shop at the northwest corner of Church and Alexander in the village, these men--like everyone else in the picture, visiting the village at the end of the Pride parade this year in Toronto--seemed to be looking at the gorgeous drawing of a Zodiac compass on the sidewalk. I know that I was.
Aug. 26th, 2011
A recent Canadian press article brought out the continued relevance of the Franco-American diaspora a century ago in the modern-day relationship between Canadian Québec and American Vermont.
A $30C two and a half hour bus drive from Montréal, the idea of the Vermont state capital trying to attract tourists from the mostly Francophone second city of a Canada that weathered the global economic crisis of the past years better than the United States makes economic and geographic logic both. The article also indicates, however, cultural, even genealogical logics behind this outreach.
Taking a look at the United States' census data, French is the first language of a substantial number of people in northern New England, 2-3% in Vermont and New Hampshire and more than 5% in Maine. Maine, indeed, is home to a a higher proportion of Francophones than in Louisiana. These proportions make northern New England as English/French bilingual as many regions of Canada, as much as most of Ontario and Atlantic Canada outside of the bilingual belt.
Does it follow from the fact of this bilingualism that northern New England is as closely bound to Québec as those two Canadian regions? No. It does demonstrate that in the past the boundaries between the Canadian and American regions were fairly low and permeable. David Lepitre's essay "Genealogy on the Quebec/Vermont border" describes how easy it was in the 19th century to cross from the initially British-settled but now Francophone-majority Eastern Townships in southeastern Québec to Francophone-immigrant-receiving northern New England. A certain sentimental community does still exist, as illustrated inadvertantly by this 2008 post at the Zero Anthropology blog, and even after the end of the mass migrations, seasonal migration occurs--Maine, for one, is a massive destination for Québec tourists. Certain jurisdictions on different sides of the border have cooperated closely, the paradigm being that between the Québec town of Stanstead and the Vermont community of Derby Line, although now, as I noted here and here, the trend has been for divergence owing to post-9/11 border controls.
Divergence, though, is not inevitable. In a time where there is serious discussion of connecting upstate New York to Ontario by high-speed rail to form a new transnational community for everyone's benefit, the idea of trying to do the same in relation to Québec and northern New England makes at least as much sense. Using ancestral ethnic links to justify the strengthening of an already-existing cross-border community can lend a certain momentum to that sort of somewhat border-subversive project.
Vermont, long known for its small-town charm and friendly people, is sending a message to its neighbours to the north: Canadians are bienvenue.
Burlington city council has unanimously passed a non-binding resolution encouraging local businesses to put up more French signs and to get their employees to learn the language.
“We really want people to know we're putting out the welcome mat,” Norman Blais, the councillor who sponsored the motion, told The Canadian Press.
A strong Canadian dollar has meant more tourists than ever are flocking south of the border.
According to the Vermont tourism office, Canadians already make up nearly 20 per cent of visitors to the state, and although hard numbers aren't available for this year, Deputy Commissioner Steve Cook said Canadian travel agencies are ordering twice as many Vermont travel guides this year.
It's a trend Burlington wants to encourage.
Mr. Blais says the fact the notoriously divisive city council voted unanimously, when “normally they can't decide on which side the sun will rise,” is a testament to local enthusiasm for the plan.
For Ron Redmond, executive director of Burlington's Church Street marketplace, the move just makes sense. He says the increase in the number of Canadian tourists this year is a great opportunity to deepen already close ties between Vermont and Quebec.
“We want to build strong relationships that don't depend on currency fluctuations,” he said.
“Everyone here has relatives across the border. Connections are so deep.”
A $30C two and a half hour bus drive from Montréal, the idea of the Vermont state capital trying to attract tourists from the mostly Francophone second city of a Canada that weathered the global economic crisis of the past years better than the United States makes economic and geographic logic both. The article also indicates, however, cultural, even genealogical logics behind this outreach.
“A generation ago, one-third of Vermonters had French-Canadian surnames,” Mr. Blais explained.
He himself is a good example. Both his parents come from Quebec, and he grew up speaking French around the house.
“Then I got grew up, got assimilated, and I rejected French as sort of un-American,” he said. “As I got older, I realized what a loss that was.
“A lot of Vermonters want to rediscover that heritage.”
Taking a look at the United States' census data, French is the first language of a substantial number of people in northern New England, 2-3% in Vermont and New Hampshire and more than 5% in Maine. Maine, indeed, is home to a a higher proportion of Francophones than in Louisiana. These proportions make northern New England as English/French bilingual as many regions of Canada, as much as most of Ontario and Atlantic Canada outside of the bilingual belt.
Does it follow from the fact of this bilingualism that northern New England is as closely bound to Québec as those two Canadian regions? No. It does demonstrate that in the past the boundaries between the Canadian and American regions were fairly low and permeable. David Lepitre's essay "Genealogy on the Quebec/Vermont border" describes how easy it was in the 19th century to cross from the initially British-settled but now Francophone-majority Eastern Townships in southeastern Québec to Francophone-immigrant-receiving northern New England. A certain sentimental community does still exist, as illustrated inadvertantly by this 2008 post at the Zero Anthropology blog, and even after the end of the mass migrations, seasonal migration occurs--Maine, for one, is a massive destination for Québec tourists. Certain jurisdictions on different sides of the border have cooperated closely, the paradigm being that between the Québec town of Stanstead and the Vermont community of Derby Line, although now, as I noted here and here, the trend has been for divergence owing to post-9/11 border controls.
Divergence, though, is not inevitable. In a time where there is serious discussion of connecting upstate New York to Ontario by high-speed rail to form a new transnational community for everyone's benefit, the idea of trying to do the same in relation to Québec and northern New England makes at least as much sense. Using ancestral ethnic links to justify the strengthening of an already-existing cross-border community can lend a certain momentum to that sort of somewhat border-subversive project.