A balancing act…that’s how I perceive my conversations since my arrival in Vancouver a few months ago. Surrounded by and immersed in North American English, French-Canadian French and the French of my native France, I like to juggle all three cultures, which are dear to me, both at work and elsewhere. But I also watch the way I speak a lot. At least I try to…and what is the result? I now speak a sort of strange “franglais” or “frenglish” with intonations from Québec at times and with expressions that my listeners don’t always comprehend. It is an awkward “FranQuéGlish” that resembles Acadian, which makes people smile, if not burst out laughing at times.

Try to explain to your family or friends from France that your job has had a sex change here, as in you have “une job” here, not “un job.” Or that for someone’s birthday you don’t go to “une fête d’anniversaire” but rather to “un party de fête.” Or that in Québec the order of the meals is “déjeuner” (breakfast), “dîner” (lunch) and “souper” (dinner) vs the French “petit déjeuner” (little breakfast), “déjeuner” (lunch) and “dîner” (supper)! Conversely, try to explain to a Quebecer how the French engage in “shopping” rather than in “magasinage” (magasin = shop) and park their car in a “parking” lot vs the “stationnement” found in Québec (stationner = to park). Yes, the French language of France embraces many Anglicisms and words ending in -ing. All this is to say that the French butcher the tongue of Molière, while Quebecers try to preserve it in a minority environment.

So who’s wrong? Who’s right? As for me, I’ve given up trying to figure it out. To top it off, the answer may not lie in France or Québec, as the future of the French language lies in Africa. According to the Organisation Mondiale de la Francophonie, 85% of francophones will be living on the African continent by the year 2050. By then 750 million people will be speaking French, and the language will be tied into increasingly multilingual national contexts. No doubt regional accents will intensify and possibly even supplant the traditional French accent, that is to say the accent of those who imagine themselves without one.

Here in Canada my traditional French accent is rather well received, certainly better than a Québec accent is in France. Being a Quebecer in France is to be the country-bumpkin cousin that makes you smile. The cousin who amuses you with their colourful expressions that no one dares to use in France. It’s clear that Québec folklore and camaraderie have no place in the business world of France, particularly not in the media, which is my domain. Quebecers are seen as much less credible from the point of view of high French society (mainly Parisians), who believe themselves to be speaking the “true French,” that which is the most neutral.

So, my Québecois friend, you will have to tone down your accent the same way a Belgian or even a resident of Marseille or Toulouse would if you want to work in the French media, unless of course you become a sportscaster. You have to realize that discussing rugby with an accent from the southwest of France, well, that’s a good thing.

What a shame that France, a supposed welcoming land, is depriving itself of so much multiculturalism. Is there but one good recipe for beef bourguignon, a Paris-Brest pastry or poutine? Vancouver attests to just the opposite each day with its intermingling of cultures and the resulting creativity. Vancouver has shown me that there is no “good” or “bad” French, no “good” or “bad” accent, but that there exists in fact as many varieties of French as there are francophones. So I can go back to perfecting my “FranQuéGlish” without shame. A “FranQuéGlish” that reflects my life, my experiences and the cultures that I have made mine. And that’s only the beginning.

Speaking with an accent implies appealing to the sentiment and then everything is turned upside down. – Arthur Schopenhauer