Growing Up Together in Quebec: Muslim Students Speak Out
They are young. They’re at an age (18 to 23) when they’re searching for themselves. They’re petrified of forgetting their culture and going too far in adopting the values of their new country. To them, Islam is not only a religion: it’s a point of reference, even for those who are less than fervently observant. They are thrilled when their Québécois buddies wish them a “Happy Ramadan!” With a proud smile, they say, “It’s becoming like Christmas!” Several dozen of them answered the question put to them by Tolerance.ca®: “Do you like your life in Quebec?” Here, in their voices, is what it’s like to live as a Muslim student in Montréal.
Most agree that this is a good place to live. “The way I knew it was an open-minded country was when I get up in the morning and go out to school or go downtown. Right away, you feel comfortable, you feel good. There’s no difference between Quebecers, Arabs and Blacks. But when I travel to France, I always feel tension around me,” says Houda. She was born in Quebec to Tunisian parents and now studies at the Collège de Maisonneuve. She says she’s “not very religious.”
For these students, knowledge of French or English in their country of origin influences which college they will choose to attend in Quebec. Students of Pakistani descent are most likely to go to an English-language college. In terms of integration policies for students with immigrant backgrounds, there is a clear difference between the English and French school systems.
In francophone CEGEPs (the acronym for general and vocational colleges in Quebec), a tiny minority of students request permission to use a room for prayer. The school administrations usually refuse, arguing that the institutions are secular. Requests along these lines have been made in several colleges. Yet in the English-language colleges, which advocate multiculturalism as a means of integration, such demands are easily accommodated for various ethnic and religious groups.
“We practise our religion freely at John Abbott. But we know there is still a long way to go to break down certain prejudices,” says Sedra, a girl of Pakistani origin who was born in Canada. She claims she is “fulfilled” at John Abbott, which offers Muslim students the same conditions as Vanier, Dawson and Champlain colleges. In each of these anglophone institutions, Muslim students have grouped together under their own association. They have a room at their disposal for boys and another for girls. These rooms are used for prayer and socialization. The students have access to larger rooms for Friday prayers.
“Here, even during classes, you can arrange things with the profs to go to prayer,” says Nasser proudly. A former student at the college, he has recently entered the religious studies program at Concordia University.
A tendency toward isolation
One notices, however, that the ethnic and religious associations in anglophone colleges encourage the tendency towards isolation. For example, at Vanier and John Abbott, Muslims prefer to socialize in the prayer rooms, each in his or own space far from non-Muslims.
Sedra, who has worn a head-covering since childhood, remembers that her first contact with the Union of Muslim Students Association (UMSA) goes back to when she was 11. At that age, she learned about Islamic Awareness Day (IAD), an annual event in which she now participates at her college. These events are organized throughout the English-language college and university network in Quebec. However, Montréal’s francophone colleges do not participate in the network of associations or in the activities.
As for student representation, the administrations at francophone CEGEPs are inflexible: there can only be one association for all students. The goal is to unite, not to divide; to integrate, not to isolate. At most, ethnic groups are permitted to form their own committees. Moreover, very few students with immigrant backgrounds sit on the executive committees of student associations at the francophone colleges we visited. “We just can’t attract them,” admits Loïc Lombard, internal secretary of Collège de Maisonneuve student association.
Because most Muslim students are not very observant, especially as far as prayers are concerned, only a very small minority of students at francophone colleges have asked to have the same conditions as those found in the anglophone institutions. Not having a prayer room doesn’t bother Anas, Ismaël and their friends at CEGEP Bois-de-Boulogne, all of whom are very religious. The administration allows them to say their prayers in any empty room. Permission is granted following the principle of “reasonable accommodation,” the standard term used in the francophone education community.
These young people of Moroccan origin spend most of their time with others of the same background. They’re not the only ones. The situation is widespread among college students, no matter what their religious denomination. At Collège André-Laurendeau, the recess area spontaneously splits into two halves: the Café In, where only native Québécois hang out, and the Salle des pas perdus, where none do.
That means that Sarah and her North African friends often find themselves in the blue Salle des pas perdus. Hanane finds that people of the same ethnic group naturally gravitate to each other. “We have the same values. My girlfriends are Algerian, we all practically come from the same village, we’ve gone through the same experiences, so we hang out together.”
Sarah has another explanation. “We’re petrified of forgetting our culture. We keep bringing it up. If someone mentions Morocco, everyone turns around to listen. If we hear Moroccan music, forget everything else: we all run over to hear it. We’re so afraid of losing our culture that we always end up in a group and we always try to speak Arabic. We make jokes in our language and use expressions that make us laugh and that a Quebecer would not find funny.”
“Mosque in the morning… discotheque at night!”
From one group of friends to another, there are differences in the way they perceive Quebec values, in their adherence to Islam and in how they experience wearing the veil.
At Collège Bois-de-Boulogne, the group of boys with Moroccan roots say they “find it tough” to apply Islam literally “when you’re a young person in Quebec.” Their religious culture brings them together and means they get together often, inside and outside the college. Like all observant young Muslims, they go to the mosque and meet up in the evenings during Ramadan and religious holidays.
But that doesn’t stop them from having fun together “like good Quebecers.” “The same guys who go to the mosque in the morning meet up again in the evening at the discotheque,” says one of the boys. “If you want to follow your religion, you have to deprive yourself of certain pleasures, like having girlfriends, going out and drinking. Everyone does it and everyone hides it; no one wants to talk about it.” Despite the feeling they are committing haram (a sin), they find that “when you grow up in Quebec, you become more open-minded and you open new horizons.”
Although the women in their families cover their heads, not all of these students’ girlfriends are veiled. Some are even very fashionable. Among the girls in that category is Mahdia, half Tunisian and half Québécoise, who is very observant despite her Westernized appearance.
Influenced by both Quebec culture and Arab/Islamic culture, these young Moroccans end up in a state of guilty pleasure. But for a group of North Africans from Collège de Maisonneuve, the feeling is one of confusion. “We are caught between two worlds,” says Siham, explaining that she feels both Moroccan and Québécoise, but at the same time, neither one nor the other. The feeling is shared by her friend Houda who, like her, is “not very religious.”
This questioning of identity is not as present among anglophone Muslim college students. Their approach to religious practice seems more closed to Western culture and lifestyles. Anas is the emir (a sort of religious leader) of the Muslim students at the English-language John Abbott College. To become emir, Anas did not need to be elected. “In Islam, there are no elections, it’s not democracy,” he explains. “It’s shura (the Islamic principle of governance). It’s based on consultations. But the outgoing emir chooses his own successor.”
Anas and his friends Nasser and Hamza seem more scrupulous in their practice of Islam and less open to Western-style entertainment than their francophone counterparts. All three wear a beard, “because Islam says so,” but also because “it makes us seem more virile.”
Hamza is one of several imams present at the Friday prayers. He is very bitter towards “Quebec nationalism,” which he accuses of putting obstacles in the way of the demands of other cultures and religions.
At Vanier College, the emir for the next semester has just been named. However, some are dissatisfied. “The majority is not in agreement with this system. Inch’Allah (God willing), things will change,” comments Omar. This young Palestinian from Gaza borrows the terms “majority” and “minority” from the Western concept of democracy. His companions do not entirely agree with him.
The students also have differing opinions on other topics. While all his friends praise the tolerance of Quebecers and the conditions that are offered to them at Vanier College, Abdelhafid is rather critical: “When you wash your feet in the sink in the washrooms and when you wear traditional clothing, people look at you sideways.” It should be noted that performing ablutions in the washrooms has led to problems at other post-secondary institutions, such as Collège de Maisonneuve and Université du Québec à Montréal (UQÀM).
Abdelhafid believes Quebecers know little about Islam. “They think that Muslims treat women badly and deny them the right to education! To them, if you’re a Muslim, you’re a terrorist because of September 11. That’s what it comes down to.”
Omar, the “democrat” of the group, reminds us that in this respect, too, there is a range of opinions on the pertinence of certain behaviours. “Do we really need to wear traditional clothing and grow a beard? Some of us think it’s unnecessary and only increases the risk of racism towards us.”
“Young Quebecers are open-minded
and willing to dialogue”
For his part, Hassan, a student at Vanier College, feels that “Christians are very open-minded. Some of them spend half an hour asking us questions so as to understand.” Another student, of Palestinian origin, even engages in a little self-criticism. “It’s true that, as Muslims, we have gone through difficult situations in recent years. But that has made us overly sensitive; it encourages a sometimes unjustified feeling that we are the victims of racism.”
Speaking with a strong Egyptian accent, the Palestinian reminds his friends that they are immigrants. “We are new to an existing society. It’s up to us to take the first steps and introduce ourselves. If we close ourselves off, they will never accept us.”
Most Muslim college students find that young Quebecers have fewer preconceived ideas than adults, and that they are open-minded and willing to dialogue. As part of the program Profil du monde, students from Collège de Maisonneuve are planning to travel to Morocco. In preparation for the trip, it is these students—and not those of North African origin—who are organizing Moroccan evenings and serving couscous and tajines.
The students at the francophone institutions tell lots of stories about friends who are Québécois or from other ethnic groups and who, to support them and see what it’s like, fast for a few days during the Ramadan. “On the last day of Ramadan it was funny: all the students clapped for us,” remembers Sarah, the student from CEGEP André-Laurendeau.
In the opinion of Anas, the student from Collège de Maisonneuve, “tomorrow’s society will be much more open because today’s youth will have lived with us—young Arabs and Muslims. They will have seen for themselves that the adults’ prejudices are ridiculous.”
“We are growing up together,” concludes Serene, an attractive veiled student at John Abbott College.
Translated by Christine York.
* * From left to right: Siham, Ismaël, Anas, Abdel and Elsie.
This article is part of a series on the diversity of values and religious beliefs in colleges and universities and is presented with the financial support of:
