Zach Cheung for the McGill Daily (MD): I imagine that writing a memoir is much like having a conversation with yourself. But as much as you have to listen to yourself, I can imagine that there’s going to be a lot of outside noise. So I wanted to ask you, how much of the news — Bill 96, Bill 2, the lead-up to the provincial election — did you have to tune out?

Balarama Holness (BH): So the big thing about this memoir is that it’s not a political manifesto. This memoir is me opening myself up to the world in a very vulnerable way. It’s a way of exposing my life story from the way my parents met, to growing up in an ashram to arriving in Quebec, to finding myself through an identity crisis at a very young age, to living through referendums, to falling off track and finding myself once again through football, to then falling into a level of deep despair with the passing of my mother and then traveling abroad.

But when it comes to the important elements of politics and policy, the book more so explains why I care about these issues. It gives the reader an insight into why I do what I do. And from that perspective, even if Bill 96 never existed, the way that I was treated in the hallways during grade school is indicative of Bill 96. So there’s no surprise to me that Bill 96 has come into play or this linguistic fight continues to engulf the province because I’ve experienced this my whole life. So there was no sense of tuning out the outside noise, but more sense of rediscovering. It’s a conversation with yourself, but when you’re analyzing and looking back to your childhood, you’re actually rediscovering elements of your life and finding common themes that you never even knew existed until you took the time to actually look and uncover, almost like an archaeological expedition into one’s life.

MD: How does the title of the book, Eyes on the Horizon, relate to how you stated that this memoir was an act of rediscovery?

BH: Yeah, Eyes on the Horizon, as a title, is interesting for multiple reasons. Number one, to give you a concrete example, when I announced the petition to require the city to have a conversation on racism, there was a lot of pushback. And because my eyes were on the horizon, I never really felt the negative influence of the people who were pushing back against you. Even when I was running for mayor of Montreal, all of the policies that I cared about were so important to me that my eyes were continuously moving forward. The immediate pushback, whether it was from the media or from critics, was water off my back because my eyes were on the horizon, the vision being so crystal clear that I didn’t care about the immediate road bumps in front of me.

MD: You say in the book: “If you want to go fast, go alone; if you want to go far, go together.” Was there a single moment in time when you realized the need to organize collectively?

BH: Yeah, there’s this kind of conundrum between individualism and collective organization. I’ve always been an individual because I grew up solo. I had to survive individually if I wanted to be able to be able to function in this community without my parents. But you also have to understand that in the community organization realm and even politics, you need to be able to mobilize a collective. You cannot do it alone. And whether it’s the 22,000 signatures to require the city to have a consultation, or whether it’s Mouvement Montréal or Bloc Montréal, these are all done with a collective of people from all different backgrounds, faiths, ethnicities, skills, and careers. That’s what makes it enriching, and it’s something I’m very proud of.

And when you look at what we built in terms of Mouvement Montréal, a political party that is a true reflection of Canada, of Quebec, of Montreal — that is what parliament should look like. That is what the National Assembly should look like. The policies, more importantly, that we were invoking are what should be reflected in our democratic society, in our view. So it’s not just about the aesthetics of diversity, but it’s about the substance of the policies that’s critically important and that we’re still waiting to have come to fruition. And that’s why the journey continues.

MD: You often mention that education is a source of political empowerment. How do you think activists should use their education to hold institutions accountable?

BH: It’s not just about activists, it’s about minorities at large. And it’s not just about education equating to higher socioeconomic statuses; immigrants and minorities do have equal, if not higher, levels of education but income is not always connected to that because of employment discrimination and other factors. Education should be a way to free yourself from the shackles of desire in this material world and to empower yourself and your consciousness. So it’s not just a question of activists, but it’s anyone who feels as though they’re marginalized or oppressed. It’s that love and that passion for education. It could be through a book, it could be through travel, it could be through conversations, it could be through conscientious awareness and developing that with other people. That is what’s going to emancipate the oppressed from the oppressor, as opposed to simply viewing education as an economic means for uplifting oneself.

MD: What do you see in the future of both Bloc Montréal and Mouvement Montréal?

BH: Well, the next generation plays a large role in continuing the journey. And it’s my job now to stay on the front lines to instruct and guide the next change makers, to ensure a vision beyond politics: a vision of human dignity based on quality access. Similar to the green spaces that I grew up in — obviously we can’t recreate the Appalachian Mountains here in Montreal — we want green spaces in these low income neighborhoods. The sports centers that I used as harbour when I had fallen off track, I want those same sports centers for the next generation right here in Montreal. The same opportunities I had as a leader in a political party, I would hope for proper education to instruct the next generation of changemakers to be leaders in their own perspective, whether it’s in tech, finance, or arts, whatever it may be. All the things that allowed me to be the person I am today, I hope that we can provide the same resources and infrastructure to the next generation so they could thrive and meet their fullest potential.

MD: There is a chapter in your memoir where you recount your travels. You mentioned in specific that you resonated with the idea of “investing in people rather than soldiers” when you learned that Costa Rica did not have a standing army. Does this have any parallels to what Bloc Montréal and Mouvement Montréal stand for?

BH: Yeah, 100%. I was very reticent to include in the book the fact that I distributed marijuana when I was younger. But the reason why I decided to put that in was because it shows that through investing in coaches, sports centers, mentors, and teachers, a productive member of society is able to influence society in a positive way. It’s proof that if we actually go into these neighbourhoods and provide quality services to people, to youth, that great things can come from that. And still, we continue to fight dejected youth with handcuffs as opposed to giving them pens, computers, and footballs.

So imagine if that police officer, when he handcuffed me because I was smoking marijuana, gave me a criminal record and wrote me up — my whole life would have been ruined. But a coach gave me a football, and a teacher gave me access to the computer lab at the University of Ottawa, and the rest is history. And it is my firm belief that the political class, whether it’s the municipal, provincial or federal government, understands very clearly what it would take to guide and instruct minority youth. The reason why there’s no support center in Montreal North, and I mentioned it quite often in the book, is not because there’s no money for the support centers. We live in a G7 country, we have the money. The reason why they don’t is because of explicit and implicit bias, prejudice, and hate towards these communities. For me, if there’s one point in the book that comes up time and time again, it’s that sports center that changed my life. And I think that similar opportunities can help a lot of kids in Montreal North.

MD: Is there anything you learned about yourself when writing this memoir?

BH: Well, it kind of reaffirmed within myself that if an individual, a party, or an institution is not going to offer me the same dignity as the next person, all hell will break loose. In my youth, all hell used to break loose with my fists. And that got transformed into a positive rebellion that is exemplified through community organization, politics, and law. But if I’m challenged, discriminated against, or disrespected, and I see that other people around me are experiencing similar things, we’ll all come together with proverbial pitchforks and torches, and we’ll come for you. And that’s what we’ve done. And we’ve turned it into a positive march. Empowered through my legal and educational training, that’s why I continue to be inspired.

MD: In leading this “positive rebellion,” did you feel like a political agitator when you entered the political scene?

BH: I didn’t talk a lot about this in the book, but I think that why we may have been seen as more agitators than we potentially should have been is because democracy is not open and equitable. We had to fight to get on debate stages. The Chamber of Commerce didn’t invite us on the debate stage. Culture Montreal didn’t invite us. Radio Canada, a public institution, didn’t invite us on the debate stage. Tout Le Monde En Parle didn’t invite us onto their show. When we would send out press releases on our economic policy, it wouldn’t get covered. When we sent out a press release on a cultural general policy, it wouldn’t get covered. The media was extremely biased and it was hard for us to pierce through the Coderre/Plante battle. That’s where this idea of “rebellion” came from.

So what we had to do, in which we probably looked more like agitators than we would like, is that we had to fight back against the media and give them content. That would actually make them publish it, as opposed to us being able on face value, just to publish our platform and to get news based on that. So, we were not there to just agitate, but we were there to get candidates elected.

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“Pull yourself up by your bootstraps.” It’s a common expression in American political discourse, particularly present in rhetoric that presents self-reliance as the main tool in the fight for financial self-actualization. The concept is simple: to elevate oneself without any external help.  This phrase has become part of America’s cultural mythology and the centerpiece of the West’s approach to uplifting the materially or socially disadvantaged. The bootstraps narrative also suggests that wealthy Americans rose to the upper echelons of wealth purely through rugged individualism and discipline. It implies that everyone can achieve the American Dream, even a young Black man from New York’s Marcy Projects. Indeed, the bootstraps narrative is a core theme within the works of Brooklyn-born rapper Jay-Z and symbolizes the idea that Black people can transcend racist systems and achieve liberation through the accumulation of capital. And although resources play a vital role in the amount of power and privilege an individual holds, the accumulation of wealth by any marginalized community will not eliminate or dismantle oppressive systems. Slavery and anti-Black racism have powered and continue to power the systems of American capitalism that exploit the labour of Black people in order to generate a profit. It is because of this that Jay-Z is mistaken when propagating the idea that material emancipation can be reached using these same tools that have marginalized
 the Black community.

Jay-Z, born Sean Corey Carter, is one of the world’s most successful rappers. He has won a total of ten Grammys and has had more number-one albums than any other solo artist on America’s Billboard chart. Describing himself as fulfilling the American Dream, Jay-Z’s discography is lined with tracks that document his uphill escape from the New York public housing complex Marcy Projects. He uses the bootstraps narrative to present to his listeners that his journey toward financial security was fulfilled. In U Don’t Know, Jay-Z makes it clear through boisterous lyrics that his climb up was self-made:

That’s another difference that’s between me and them

I smarten up, open the market up

[…]

You are now lookin’ at one smart Black boy

Mama ain’t raise no fool

Put me anywhere on God’s green earth, I’ll triple my worth, motherfucker

The bootstraps narrative in Jay-Z’s latest album 4:44 is used not only to reflect upon his own personal escape from material scarcity, but also to illustrate how his experiences reflect on the power of Black entrepreneurship in repairing the societal scars inflicted by slavery and anti-Black racism. The Story of O.J. is the second and most explicitly political track of the album. The chorus recalls how American and Western economies were built by chattel slavery and anti-Black discrimination while being engineered to exclude Black people from thriving within it. In this way, it is a meditation on the inescapability of anti-Black racism regardless of a Black person’s economic status or vocation. Jay-Z is saying that whether you’re rich or poor — you’re still Black:

Light n—, dark n—, faux n—, real n—

Rich n—, poor n—, house n—, field n—

Still n—, still n—

In response, Jay-Z seems to play the role of a financial advisor to the Black community. In the following bars, he showcases the reasons for which he believes Black entrepreneurship paves the way for liberation within the American capitalist structure. The type of liberation presented in The Story of O.J. is one that sees the Black community realize financial success in, what Jay-Z has stated to be, an economic system that has “locked us out.” Notably within the first and second verses, the bootstraps narrative manifests as a call to action for Black communities to lift themselves out from economic hardship and use that wealth to repair the deep wounds inflicted through American systemic exclusion: 

Take your drug money and buy the neighborhood

That’s how you rinse it

[…] 

I turned that 2 to a 4, 4 to an 8

I turned my life into a nice first week release date

Y’all out here still takin’ advances, huh?

These lyrics demonstrate Jay-Z’s awareness that the conditions of economic scarcity experienced by marginalized communities are perpetuated through the American economy. However, the way in which he describes the path to emancipation ignores how the mechanisms used to suppress the potential for marginalized communities to achieve upward class mobility are essential to the very model of the economy in which he wishes Black communities to thrive. Societal mechanisms like slavery were essential in America’s transition into industrial capitalism and were codified after its abolition in order to exist today. Modern slavery continues to contribute to the American economy and is protected via the 13th Amendment. It exists in incarceration camps like Louisiana’s Angola Prison where convicts earn pennies for labour, if any at all. Possessing the highest prison population and incarceration rate in the world, America possesses a monumental force of unpaid workers who, conveniently, are five times more likely to be Black. 

In her essay The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House, Audre Lorde argues: “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” The major point of Lorde’s essay is to highlight how it is impossible to solve problems related to systems oppression by working with the tools that were used to establish those very same systems. Racism, white supremecy, the consolidation of power, and slavery are all instruments of the “master” and foundational values upon which most modern workplaces were founded on. In this way, Jay-Z’s subscription to the bootstraps narrative as a means through which the Black community may achieve financial security seems almost historically revisionist; it ignores the fact that the exploitation of Black people is an essential cornerstone to the systems that allows one to amass capital in the first place. The idea that capitalism and the accumulation of wealth, which are the tools of the “master”, could be used by the oppressed to become liberated is mistaken. 

In the recent past, Jay-Z has failed to exemplify the idea that Black billionaires are able to trickle-down their influence and wealth to support the financial actualization of the Black community at large. A good example that displays Jay-Z’s inaction within the realms of utilizing his own capital to uplift the Black community was the legal back-and-forth between Beyoncé and Kelis. 

In August, Beyoncé removed an interpolation of Kelis’ song Milkshake from her new song Energy. Kelis, although singing the vocals for Milkshake, never received any money from the revenue generated from the original song. Instead, the rights to Milkshake were attributed to Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo. Being credited on Energy, Williams and Hugo were able to profit off of the revenue made by Beyoncé’s interpolation of Kelis’ vocals. However, in the same fashion as what occurred with Milkshake, Kelis was barred from being credited on Energy. Instead of responding to a case in which a Black artist was clearly being alienated from the profits of their labour, Jay-Z remained silent. What is particularly troubling about Jay-Z’s inaction is that he has previously acknowledged the exploitative nature of the music industry within his lyrics. In Moonlight, he says: 

Y’all n—s still signin’ deals? Still?

After all they done stole, for real?

In  failing to agitate the situation or advocate for the rights of those Black artists whose labour was exploited, Jay-Z displays how he is complicit in the systems used to financially marginalize the Black community. 

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The Daily sat down with Small to discuss her career in food, her involvement with the local community, the language debate, and anglophone rights.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity. It is not an endorsement on behalf of the Daily.

The McGill Daily (MD): What was the genesis of your political career?

Heidi Small (HS): I have been thinking about this a lot. The best answer I can come up with is that I’m an accidental politician. I would never have imagined that there was a title for my passion. But my passion is so strong and I’m such an advocate – whether for my children, for myself. 

I first met Balarama Holness by complete coincidence at an event; we became friends and I heard his story. I [was] starting to fear for my life with all the crazy politics that are happening with Bill 96 – everything that comes with the language laws, our democracy, everything at risk. So I said to him: “I’m going to help you, Balarama. You are going to make a difference.” He also met with me a few times for coffee and I was introduced to some key figures in the community. All of a sudden he looks at me and says: “You’re the one that needs to be running here. You are a representation of Montreal in all its finest moments. Run with me.” And I was like: “Run where?” I didn’t even know what the language was with a campaign and a race. He said to me: “Just run in my campaign; I’ll explain it to you. Your riding is Westmount, you are a born leader. You’ve lived in Westmount for over 23 years, everybody knows you, you are so community-minded – do it.” 

MD: Balarama said that you were “community-minded.” Was that in reference to your show Beyond the Plate where you provide a platform to local chefs in Montreal?

HS: Absolutely. Your DNA – who you are, the cloth that you’ve been cut from – identifies and tells you the direction that you need to be going in. So I learned who I was and the cloth that I was cut from when I was starting to raise money on behalf of my late father for brain cancer. So I’m like: “I’ve got something here, people listen to me, and I can create change.” Even though the problem of cancer is so enormous, I brought it back to a place of “what can I do today?” I can’t think about tomorrow and the next day. It’s just: “Heidi, what can you raise for today?” That’s my kind of mentality: day by day, making a small mark on the community. 

I completely changed my life and my career after my father passed away because I saw the beauty and the sadness of how fragile your life is. I was ready for a change. After losing my father, I thought, “You’ve got to make it count this next round.” So I called up the Montreal Gazette and I found out the right emails and I put a pitch together because I wanted to highlight Montreal chefs and tell their stories. It was not about critiquing and breaking them down; it was about uplifting them in a shining light. 

I’m almost built for service, which is what you need to be when you’re a politician. When you’re a politician, you have to have a burning desire to do better for others at all times. The chef platform was beautiful to do that. I can go and just shine a light on the beautiful chef community. So it was all there. All I had to do was slap on a new label, calling myself an active politician. But really, I look at myself like a very passionate person who cares.

MD: Would you say that engaging with the chef community allowed you to transition to engaging with the local business aspect of Montreal – the everyday people who are outside of the culinary world? 

HS: Absolutely. I think food unites. It doesn’t matter what language you speak, it doesn’t matter what country you come from – if you put food in the middle of a table, people gather. 

But the most important part of our city is that we have many languages and we have people coming from all over to start here. We have immigrants coming here. We would have no culture, no food, nowhere to eat if it wasn’t for that beautiful diversity that makes this metropolis and culinary epicentre. I want to continuously break barriers and bring people together, whether it is to hear different languages, to hear about different cultures, or to, of course, eat different food.

MD: Westmount-Saint-Louis, your riding, is home to a very diverse population. In the municipal district of Peter-McGill, which overlaps with Westmount-Saint-Louis, 60 per cent of people are immigrants.. Additionally, students come from everywhere to study at McGill. What  would it mean to you to represent a population as diverse as this one?

HS: Well, I come from a very traditional Jewish home and I went to a Jewish school where I learned four languages: French, English, Hebrew, and Yiddish. So I’m all about the sacrifices from parents who want to keep educating their kids about where they come from and who they are as a person. I want everyone who comes here to feel safe, and I want them to feel welcome because they will be, ultimately, the tapestry that makes this city so diverse and beautiful.

MD: In what ways does your desire to prevent newcomers from feeling alienated relate to laws like Bill 96 and Bill 21?

HS: When somebody is cut from the wrong cloth and they feel a sense of insecurity, they’re always shaky, they’re broken inside, and they’re always looking for a way to bring people down. I can’t help but wonder, who is Legault speaking to? Is he speaking to a fragmented, broken, insecure group? To me, when you are proud, when you’re a proud Montrealer or you’re a proud Quebecois(e), it will never matter what language you speak. So it pains me that he’s breeding this sense of insecurity when Montrealers play beautifully together. We know how to speak and communicate.

In the end, it isn’t about being perfectly bilingual; it’s about being a good human and being secure within yourself. So it really hurts that he’s fueling this fire of insecurity about the “mother language” when it doesn’t exist amongst the people who are walking the streets every day. We all get along; we all play nice. 

MD: On your Instagram, you said that Bloc Montreal is “the Liberal Party done right.” Could you expand on what you meant by that, knowing that the Liberal Party has historically been a popular representative of Anglo communities?

HS: The new English leadership that has sprouted is actually because the English population does not feel protected by the Liberal Party. In many ways they feel that their leadership fell asleep on the job and let these bills pass in the night. 

So Balarama said, I am a Liberal, but I’m not doing it the way they are doing it. I’m going to have to go out there and build my own platform, my own party, that speaks to a generation and a community that no longer identifies with its leadership.

MD: Bloc Montreal seeks to have representatives mainly in the Montreal region, but what would you say to Anglo-Quebecers outside of Montreal who may align with your views but who don’t have a representative from Bloc Montreal to represent them?

HS: When you’re a David and Goliath-type movement, you have to start somewhere. Would Balarama wish to have representation off the island of Montreal? Absolutely. But he chose strategically. And it’s like, do you spread yourself thin and get very little results? Or do you put yourself in a very dense English population and play those odds? And I feel as though he did a great job at centering himself and not spreading himself too thin and choosing very specific people to run in the race and win.

MD: Bloc Montreal has advocated for policies that would make Montreal more autonomous. What is the importance of the policy on your platform stating that 20 per cent of the Quebec Sales Tax generated in Montreal should be redirected to the municipal government?

HS: Small businesses are unique. The coffee shops, the bagel shops – all of these gorgeous businesses took such a hit during the pandemic. We are coming out of extraordinary times. It’s hard enough just to have survived the pandemic. On top of that, now, just as people are finding their last breath, they have to face new regulations, new fears. Holding on to those percentages of those taxes to give back to the community – back to small business – is what will, I think, resuscitate everybody coming out of the pandemic.

MD: A lot of young people can be very cynical not only about politicians but about voting in general. What would you say to people who would be hesitant to vote for a small party like yours versus any other party that might be older or bigger?

HS: It’s an ocean. But to a young population that feels disgruntled or misrepresented, I would say to them, like I would say to anybody, you need to exercise your right to vote, whether it is for me or for somebody else. Don’t let it slip, don’t be lazy. Get up and go and exercise your right to vote. 

Then I would say, because there’s so much noise out there with everybody fighting for what seemingly feels like the same thing – English [language] rights. I would say, do your homework and go out and try and investigate further who these people are in your riding. Don’t get overwhelmed by chasing a party. Go and chase candidates and hear them and see what they have to say because it will just come down to who resonates with you. It comes down to a feeling. And I truly believe that in this election and in my riding, it will just come down to who you feel comforted by. Who speaks and resonates with your voice? That’s all. It’s going to come down to who speaks on your behalf with the loudest voice, with the most coherent plan, and – like a bulldog in the ring – who is going to get hold of that bone and not let go.

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The McGill Daily spoke with Touchette in a conversation concerning topics spanning from QS’s support of Bill 96, to the importance of far-reaching climate change policies, and the young voter turnout.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity. It is not an endorsement on behalf of the Daily.

The McGill Daily (MD): How would you introduce yourself to people who may not be familiar with you?

David Touchette (DT): I was born in Haiti and was adopted by a French Canadian couple at the age of eight months. Growing up, I lived in Drummondville, which makes it so that I have a good impression about what it is to be a stranger in a white city, but it was a very good expense. I have lived in Montreal since 2000. 

When I came to Montreal, I decided to work in the fashion industry mostly as a reporter and video producer. During my time in fashion and all my life I was always interested in social politics. When I was younger I was involved with the Institut du Nouveau Monde. I was also involved with the Chambre de Commerce LGBT du Québec where I was on the administration board for three years and a member for ten years.

In 2018, I was a candidate with QS for the riding of Lafontaine (consisting of the neighbourhood of Rivière-des-Prairies). After that, and for the last four years, I was the spokesperson for the Montreal area within QS’s coordination committee.

MD: You have lived in Westmount-Saint-Louis since 2012. What made you want to represent this riding?

DT: Sometimes I think I’m too transparent, that’s just my personality. Westmount-Saint-Louis, it was not my first choice. I was thinking of running for another riding outside of Lafontaine because I had finished a contract with the Corporation de développement Communautaire de Rivière-des-Prairies (CDC RDP). If I were to be a candidate again in the Lafontaine riding, it would have been a conflict of interest because my main job was to work with all the community organization and stuff from the government. So I took a little step back and just said, you know what? Let’s see what place sounds comfortable in Montreal. Westmount-Saint-Louis was the place where I lived, so I said, okay, why not? I live here and I think I have the potential. 

My hesitation is just because a lot of people ask me the question: “why are you running in Westmount-Saint-Louis?” because for QS, it’s not a winning place. I think the reason why I accepted to run here is because I live here and I think we have a possibility to change our voice and benefit the community and make a difference. I have seen a lot of stuff within this riding, because I have lived here for a long time, that I would like to change if the population is ready to vote for our party. But me, I’m here just to propose what we can do for Westmount-Saint-Louis.

MD: A lot of students live in Westmount-Saint-Louis and many of them, whether they come internationally or from the rest of Canada, may not be from Quebec. Do you think there are certain types of needs that a diverse riding like this requires?

DT: I’m very excited about that. We have the world in one place; from students, to permanent residents, to immigrants. For me, the reason why I thought, okay, why not go and run to represent this population is because I think that we have to be an example not only for Quebec, but also for the world. The fact that we have such a rich diversity in Westmount-Saint-Louis for me is the big reason to avoid saying: “Are you for sovereignty or not? Are you French or English?” No. Rather, it’s: “What can we do together with all the people from other places around the world?” What can we do to Montreal to make this place an example for what we have always wanted for all other places around the world? Some people who live in Westmount-Saint-Louis have lived in countries where they don’t have a chance to have the perfect democracy that we have. There are also people who  have lived in countries where climate change has affected their country more here in Canada and Quebec.

Montreal for me is the perfect place to have this diversity because we are a young society and we have a chance to learn from people who come from around the world. I’m so tired of the political discourse that says that the French language is in danger because we have more immigrants. I’m done with all that. It’s just wonderful to have a lot of people from around the world who come here to study, to know about us, to recognize that we have a very special way in which we communicate together — French. So I think we have to do as much as we can to welcome them and to help them to learn French and to make Montreal more open to integration. 

MD: Some non-francophone Montrealers have said that Bill 96 presents obstacles for them to integrate into Quebec society. Some members of QS have supported this bill. You have stated that Bill 96 “will harm the party’s efforts to break into ridings where many Anglophones and Allophones live.” Could you expand upon that?

DT: I was not happy when I received this news because for me, QS possesses a better way to promote French. When we supported Bill 96, we didn’t take the time to improve upon it by adding methods to support French without limiting the Anglophone community. The thing for me is that it’s very important that we are able to speak French. But when Legault put this bill on the table, it was automatically intended for confrontation and in that way this bill is not acceptable. The fact newcomers have six months to learn French and, on top of that, the policies that overshadow Indigenous languages, I was just pissed off about that. However, I’ve talked to Christine Labrie and Gabriel Nadeau-Dubois and gave them my opinion and they respect it. The amendment made to Bill 96 has also made me more comfortable with the law. 

With the Anglophone community, I know we have a lot of support from the left. I was just sad. Sometimes I fear that they will feel like we didn’t think about them, or that if we do think about them, it’s in opposition. For me, there are a lot of Anglophones and immigrants who vote for QS and we have to try to represent them too. But, I understand that the members of QS who did vote in favour of Bill 96 did what they felt would be better for French. I know that they didn’t do this as an action against Anglophones, as Legault wanted to do. 

Bill 96 is a chance for us to show Quebecois(e) what we can do better. We didn’t have to support Bill 96, but what’s done is done. What I want to do is to advocate for what we should do, which is to promote French without being against English.

MD: What is the difference between voting for Bill 96 with the intent to be against Anglophones, which you have stated the CAQ has done, and voting for Bill 96 solely for the intent to promote French, as you have stated QS has done? Are the actions done by the members of these two parties the same?

DT: When I worked with QS, I didn’t feel like they intended to place pressure against Anglophones. However, I also really feel like QS had a case of tunnel vision; they were very focused on French and they didn’t see the impact that Bill 96 could have had on the Anglophone community. 

But another important thing I wanted to say involves Legault. I think how he talks — for example how he said how French in Quebec will become like French in Louisiana  — shows how he doesn’t know what English in Quebec is. Even if you want to say that English is not good, English is everywhere. What we need to focus on is what we do with French. But I’m comfortable with the decision of QS because I know inside the members did what they thought was the best for French in Montreal while also wanting the Anglophone community to feel good within Quebec.

MD: The leading representatives of QS, Manon Masse and Gabriel Nadeau-Dubois, voted in favour of Bill 96. Do you believe that this may ultimately affect how non-francophones may view the party, despite people like you disagreeing with their position?

DT: Well, yes of course. When I started in this election, it was very difficult for me on the street. I received very bad comments because people thought that I was a traitor. And that’s what I told my team: the vision that QS had was going to have an impact. But I think we should not focus on this too much because QS has proven many times that they are very inclusive. They fight for the inclusion of everyone including Anglophone people and immigrants. Of course, perception is very important. But in the end, I didn’t feel like I was part of a party that wanted to go against English; if that was the case I would have left. 

But like I said, I had a long conversation with Gabriel Nadeau-Dubois about Bill 96 and I really feel like these guys are sensitive about what will happen to this community. He told me that he didn’t expect the reaction of people and sometimes I think in the heat of Parliament you can vote for some stuff of which you would not expect the result. But for people to have a bad perception about QS now because we supported Bill 96, I think, is not a good reason because we didn’t change. We are the same. We are environmentalists and feminists and our actions are intended to serve everyone. 

MD: What do you believe within the  QS platform is the most important policy for combating climate change?

DT:  For me, the reduction of greenhouse gases by 55 per cent is most important. And I have to say it’s about time. I love QS because they are going far with the climate change policies. For example, another important thing about the platform for climate change is the electrification of public transport. A very high percentage of greenhouse gases are derived from public transportation and I think we have to fight for this now. 

The nationalization of the transport is also very important for Montreal, but also for Quebec. My parents live in Drummondville. Especially during the pandemic, when many transportation companies reduced their hours of operation, it was not easy for me to take the bus there. So I had to rent a car, which is  more expensive for me and it’s more harmful for the climate. If the government promised to create intercity public bus lines, I would have been able to go anywhere. 

MD: A lot of young people can be very cynical of voting, especially with policies that aim to combat climate change that have taken a long time to actualize. What would you say to people who think like this? 

DT: I think that the fact that things are going bad now does not mean that things could not go well in the future. It’s not a reason to stop fighting or to stop expressing oneself. It’s not going to be easy to make people understand the change we need to make, but it’s not a reason to stop. We are the next generation. Look at it this way: we struggle now to make people understand our opinion about climate change so that the next two years will be easier. The next five years will be even more easier. But we have to look to the future, and not always at the moment, because in the moment now it’s always going to be difficult. All of us, we have to continue to talk and to fight climate change. This is why I really resonate with QS’s policies because while we have a common goal, all voices are important to be included. 

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In late July, Pope Francis issued a landmark apology to Indigenous peoples across so-called Canada, praying for “God’s forgiveness, healing and reconciliation” for the role the Roman Catholic Church played in the Canadian residential school system. He has described his visit to Canada as a “penitential” journey. The Pope expressed how the Church’s contribution to the projects of cultural destruction and forced assimilation of Indigenous peoples culminated in a “disastrous error, incompatible with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.” 

The Pope’s apology and his visit to Canada attracted scathing condemnation from Montreal’s Mohawk Mothers, who argued that the Vatican’s expression of regret does nothing for Indigenous groups in the absence of restorative action. The Kanien’kehà:ka Kahnistensera, the Mohawk Mothers, issued a statement during a press conference held shortly after the Pope’s apology demanding the pontiff to leave Indigenous land. “[The Pope] could make an apology, but what does that do? When was the last time any of you sat down with a murderer, rapist, thief […] so that [they] could say sorry to you? That’s the entity that [the Pope] represents,” said Kweiito, a Kahnawake resident and spokesperson for the Mohawk Mothers. “Every time [the Pope] come[s], it hurts our people more and more to think […] that the entity he represents is here.” Kweiito continued to articulate that the “emptiness” of the pontiff’s apology was due largely to the inability of the Vatican to pair it with the withdrawal of religious ideologies that fuelled the genocide of Indigenous peoples. “The papal bulls that were created that said we were not human, that we were inhuman and just pagans, and that all this land is to be taken – that needs to be rescinded,” she said. “Action is everything. Words are just words.”

In the same sense, the colonial legacy of the Roman Catholic Church is magnified by the existence of public displays of the cross. According to the Mohawk Mothers, the cross on Mount Royal represents a looming reminder of the oppression and painful memories associated with the role of the Church in the genocide of Indigenous peoples. “I understand that there are people that follow that way of life, but as Onkwehonwe people it was forced down our throats,” Kweiito said. The group said that the act of taking down these symbols is an important step in dismantling the intergenerational traumas created by the residential school program. “This cross has to come down. You can relieve some people of the grief and punishment that they endured, not just for the survivors but for the intergenerational trauma that’s happening,” Kweiito said,. “It’s a symbol of them trying to commit genocide on us, and all that follows within […] It’s not welcome on my land.” 

The Role of Indigenous Law in the Royal Vic Lawsuit

Suing both McGill University and the Canadian government in March, the Mohawk Mothers have gone to court in an effort to halt the continuation of McGill’s New Vic Project, a renovation plan to redevelop the old Royal Victoria Hospital. The group seeks to stop McGill’s reconstruction efforts until the grounds have been investigated for unmarked graves associated with the “Project MKULTRA” experiments carried out against Indigenous children in the 1960s. These experiments were held by Dr. Donald Ewen Cameron, whose research consisted of “brainwashing” subjects by placing them under a chemically induced sleep in order to administer rounds of hallucinogenic drugs like LSD. The families of those who were experimented on have already filed lawsuits against McGill for the abusive treatment their relatives endured under Dr. Cameron. The Mohawk Mothers think that there may exist additional unmarked graves of the Indigenous children buried under the land on which the Royal Victoria Hospital is situated. The women’s group bases this belief on an interview with Lana Ponting, one of the few remaining survivors of Dr. Ewen Cameron’s experimentation, who alleges that experiments’ victims were buried in the grounds surrounding the Allan Memorial Institute and that underage children were victims of these experiments. The McGill University Health Centre (MUHC) has already acknowledged that Cameron held “controversial” and “unfortunate” experiments at the Allan Memorial Institute, but it has declined to assume responsibility for his actions. 

The argument presented by the Mohawk Mothers in favour of halting the New Vic project and overseeing the investigation into the unmarked graves is nested within a larger assertion that Indigenous law should be applied to sovereign Indigenous land. The Mohawk Mothers claim that traditional Indigenous law must act as the legal framework in which the New Vic lawsuit will operate. Written in March, their original motion to the Superior Court of Quebec cites section 35 of the Constitution Act, which recognizes and affirms Aboriginal treaty rights as legal documents whose contents are sourced from Indigenous legal orders. Recognizing that the events that transpired under the medical experimentation of Dr. Cameron took place on sovereign and unceded Indigenous land, the Mohawk Mothers claim that they possess a right for their relationship with the Canadian government in this case to be treated on a nation-to-nation basis. That is, they are willing to participate in the adjudication process of the settler Canadian state in order to reach a collaborative and peaceful resolution regarding the dispute of the New Vic project situated on their sovereign land.

However, the Mohawk Mothers remain wary of taking action within the context of a colonial legal system whose discourse has perpetuated a Eurocentric narrative suppressing the recognition of Indigenous sovereignty. Although their lawsuit is situated within the legal bounds of Canadian law, the Mohawk Mothers have argued for their demands on the basis of Indigenous legal traditions. By citing section 35 of the Constitution to recognize treaties like the Two-Row Wampum, which established terms of mutual co-existence and non-interference between Indigenous peoples and Canada, the Mohawk Mothers derive their rhetoric from an already agreed-upon (but historically ignored) framework for the mutual co-existence of two sovereign entities within the same territory. 

The Mohawk Mothers claim guardianship over McGill’s unceded lands lies in the 44th Wampum of the Kaianerehkό:wa (Great Law of Peace), which states that women of the Iroquois Confederacy are the caretakers of the land on behalf of future generations. Kahentinetha, another Kahnawake resident who spoke at the press conference in July, went on to explain the difficulties behind building a claim within a settler legal environment whose foundation lies in Indigenous law. One of these hurdles lies in the opposing parties’ resistance to the Mohawk Mother’s self-representation. “They’re still trying to come up with all kinds of reasons [against] it […] one of them [being] that [the trial] is going to take a long time,” she said. The Mohawk Mothers refuse to use lawyers out of a desire to separate themselves from the colonial system that has historically oppressed Indigenous people. “We spoke on our own behalf. If we take a lawyer, we’re giving up our right to be Onkwehonwe. We cannot give up our birthright,” said Kahentinetha, “We cannot take these lawyers who have taken a vow to the Crown – the ones that carried out the killing of the original people.” 

The uphill battle in which the Mothers contend demonstrates how the Canadian legal system uses a revisionist attitude to exclude Indigenous-Canadian treaties and to dismantle the legitimacy of Indigenous legal traditions within Canadian courts. The lack of authority that Indigenous law possesses in the lands that were stolen from Indigenous peoples is an issue that the Pope could have addressed – and something the Mohawk Mothers touched upon during their press conference in July. The Pope’s lack of concrete action, within the context of the legal battle between the Mohawk Mothers and McGill’s New Vic Project, represents a lost opportunity to promote Indigenous self-determination. “[The Pope] needs to write a new plight for the people that follow him and let it be known that this land belongs to the Onkwehonwe children,” Kweiito said. By taking action to endorse the authority of Indigenous law on Indigenous land, the Pope could play a role in supporting the efforts of Indigenous groups like the Mohawk Mothers, who are seeking to validate their grievances through a system of justice that is sovereign to Canada’s. However, despite ostensibly recognizing the cultural genocide committed by Church residential schools, the Pope’s decision to forgo tangible action alongside his apology continues to perpetuate the suppression of Indigenous voices.

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However, bilingual immigrants who speak fluently in both French and their mother tongue have largely been overlooked in conversations that seek to link the decline of “francophones” to the decline of French. The definition of “francophone” used by the OQLF excludes groups of allophones who speak French as well as their first language at home. The CAQ has used this statistic to create an illusory fear that a falling percentage of monolingual francophone households entails the decline of the use of French at large. In reality, this insular attitude toward French protectionism implies that the health of the French language is solely dependent on the percentage of Quebecois who exclusively speak it. To attribute the extinction of French as a common language to the decline of French-speaking households exemplifies how the CAQ’s fear of Louisianization is founded upon a bias toward upholding the use of French spoken by a particular type of person. This, paired with the CAQ’s resentment for a multilingual Quebec, makes Legault’s anxiety towards Louisianization seem to be rooted in nothing more than the belief that immigrants are not Quebecois “enough.” In this way, Bill 96 erects barriers, not only to government services but also between linguistic groups. By imposing the use of French and stigmatizing the use of other languages at home, the CAQ has constructed a coercive brand of nationalism that is fueled on the idea of a “one-culture state.”

Immigrants are not the only marginalized group to be affected by Bill 96. The bill presents non-Quebecois and anglophones with numerous hurdles by restricting their access to many parts of society. The law has a double-effect on Indigenous circles, who fear that the bill’s restriction to government services may contribute to the extinction of Indigenous languages in the province. Bill 96’s mandate for CEGEP students to attend at least three courses in French detracts from the possibility for Indigenous languages to be taught.

By framing the vitality of French in Quebec as a matter of “the language at home, […] the language at work, [and] the language in the public sector,” the CAQ has made linguistic preservation a matter of exclusion rather than protection.

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On January 20, Quebec Minister of Culture and Communications Nathalie Roy signed a notice of intent to grant heritage status to the “institutional core” of Chinatown, a sector from rue St. Urbain to rue Jeanne-Mance connected by rue de la Gauchetière. The new Noyau-Institutionnel-du-Quartier-Chinois heritage site will protect some of Chinatown’s best-known buildings, like Wing Noodle Factory, the Chinese Family Services of Greater Montreal, and the Sakura Gardens. 

Gentrification and urban planning have eaten away at Chinatown since the 1960s, threatening to engulf the entire neighbourhood. Urban planners have already taken to buying sweeping chunks of land. Advocates are anxious that these buildings will be future construction sites for high-rise condominiums – raising rent prices and choking out local Chinese residents and small businesses. The heritage site designation intends to guard against this gentrification by mandating that property owners in Chinatown must now obtain permission from the provincial government before making any alterations or demolitions to property. Owners of heritage buildings are additionally obliged to keep their property in good condition.

But the work is not over. The limitations of Chinatown’s heritage status are evident upon inspection of the size of the protected area. Unlike the heritage territories of Vieux-Montréal and Mont Royal, the Noyau-Institutionnel-du-Quartier-Chinois heritage site only makes up a fraction of the district. It excludes the majority of Chinese-owned businesses located in the three blocks north of the heritage designation. This means that under the current situation, the commercial area surrounding Chinatown’s iconic red and gold paifang gates will remain unprotected.

Quebec decided against granting heritage status to the entirety of Chinatown due to the urgency of intervening. According to Minister Roy, “Declared sites require 13 to 15 years of preparation. We needed to act quickly.” In the interim, the Plante administration implemented a by-law, applicable to parts of Chinatown not included in the heritage site, that aims to offer similar municipal restrictions as a provincially-granted heritage site would. Implemented in late January, this urban control by-law limits the height and density of new constructions within Chinatown. 

Although declaring all of Chinatown as a heritage site will take significantly longer compared to the Noyau-Institutionnel-du-Quartier-Chinois’ designation, the expectation is nevertheless that Chinatown be protected in its entirety within a reasonable timeframe. Construction and renovation projects are already swallowing up long-running Chinese businesses. The newly constructed Hampton Inn, located centimeters away from the heritage gates, embodies the gentrified real estate that residents of Chinatown have been made victim to. The Hampton Inn and other hotels and condominiums have raised the cost of living, threatening the financial viability for Chinatown locals to live within the area. Much of the damage has already taken its toll, with many Chinese residents in the surrounding community having already lost their homes to forced evictions.

The limits of heritage status

Heritage status offers Chinatown residents protection from property owners, but the limits of its protection are bound by its borders. Many people who work in Chinatown live outside the protected area. Therefore, it is imperative to avoid viewing the process of re-invigorating Montreal’s Chinatown through a prism where heritage status directly leads to the revitalization of the district. Even if heritage status was granted to all of Chinatown, there is a risk that gentrification efforts outside the heritage site will force people out of their homes – rendering the district a place for Chinese businesses, but not Chinese residents. 

Chinatown’s living neighbourhood is the intrinsic factor that provides its commercial area the cultural richness that the heritage status effort aims to protect. Much of the debate regarding where to place Chinatown’s heritage site centres around its commercial hub. However, it is important to keep in mind that protecting the community’s Chinese businesses is ultimately a means to protect its people. As such, municipal real estate regulations that help Chinatown residents directly must be adopted. Policies such as mandatory consultation with businesses on development projects and the establishment of a rent and wage subsidy registry for Chinatown’s small businesses should be adopted in addition to the heritage site in order to prevent local residents from being pushed out of their homes.

The heritage designation to Chinatown’s core is both a monumental achievement for the community and a positive sign of commitment from the municipal government. However, it is one piece in the long process to prop up the community and protect its residents. It leaves room for the government to reflect upon potential policies that may help in areas where a heritage site may not – and for independent advocates to hold them accountable to it.

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