The federal and provincial governments have declared October as Latin American Heritage Month, and the City of Montreal, where most Quebec Latinos live, has made similar recognition.
Although some were here before, it was in the 1970s when large numbers began settling in Canada, primarily due to political events in countries like Chile, Argentina and Uruguay, where military dictatorships forced thousands into exile. Civil wars and military repression in nations like El Salvador and Guatemala contributed to the arrival of many more in the 1980s.
Like many immigrants before, at first most Latinos worked in low-pay, menial jobs. However, from that early stage of their immigrant story, they increasingly entered various professions, academia and politics.
The incursion into politics should not be surprising. As the saying goes, “Politics runs in their blood.” Some were first-generation immigrants, like former MPs Osvaldo Nuñez and Paulina Ayala. Others were children of political exiles, like Pablo Rodriguez (former Liberal MP and current leader of the Quebec Liberal Party) and Soraya Martinez Ferrada (former Liberal MP, current Montreal mayoral candidate and no relation to me).
There is also a significant Latino presence in cultural areas such as cinema, theatre, literature and music.
Latinos have easily integrated into Canadian and Quebec societies, but at the same time, they have fiercely defended their identity. Although maintaining the Spanish language among younger generations is not easy, social media and access to Spanish-language TV from their native countries have helped.
Besides, the sensible advice many parents give their young has been practical: Learn French, of course, because it is the language of the majority. At home, speak Spanish — and indeed, learn English, too, because, whether one may like it or not, it is the international lingua franca, and knowing it will help you in your future life.
While Quebec Latinos have a strong desire to partake of this society, they also claim their own space for themselves and their culture. Thus, some statements by political leaders are disquieting: “Not all cultures are on the same level,” Premier François Legault said recently while criticizing multiculturalism.
Although Legault added, “I think new people coming to Quebec add to our culture,” the insistence that “newcomers are expected to integrate into the province’s dominant French-speaking culture” raises some doubts. What about those who write poems, novels or essays in their native tongue? Or who sing in Spanish or any language other than French?
Latinos get along with their francophone, anglophone and other allophone neighbours. They have demonstrated they integrate well, but they do not want to be assimilated. Jean-François Roberge, the French Language Minister, has stated assimilation is not the government’s aim. However, since government policies are implemented by bureaucrats who may interpret rules broadly, Latinos and other minorities may be justified in their concerns about the government’s plans.
Integration is a positive stance; it acknowledges that someone from outside can incorporate into a new society, adapt to its ways and engage in its social milieu while being oneself. In Quebec, nobody questions the importance of learning French. Assimilation, by contrast, is the somewhat forced abandonment of a newcomer’s identity to become something else. To assimilate is to renounce being oneself; in existential terms, it takes on a sense of inauthenticity.
Latinos celebrate their culture and their achievements as individuals and as a community. At the same time, they reject attempts to merge them into a uniform and artificial identity. They see the future of Quebec and Canadian society as one of diversity, where all cultures are respected — thus enriching the whole.
Sergio Martinez, a retired humanities CEGEP teacher, is an author and producer of Latin Time on CKUT radio.
