In early March, I had the pleasure of attending Cultural Advocacy Day at the Maine State House in Augusta. This annual event offers stakeholders in the cultural sector the opportunity to connect with policymakers and, well, advocate. It was a helpful shot in the arm for many of us who work in rural and far-flung communities—a reminder that advocacy can be a joyous, invigorating experience. We are part of a larger network of people who care deeply about culture and we have the fortune to speak passionately about our communities, our heritage, and our network of cultural spaces.
This comes with a twist in the Franco-American world. Its longtime advocates have scars to show for their efforts to protect institutions and maintain a sense of ethnic identity. It is indeed hard to be “happy warriors” for culture considering the challenges this little world has experienced in the last few generations—all of which are still with us. The sense of loss that many people feel is not to be taken lightly. At the same time, there is considerable solace in the success stories and collaborative efforts that sometimes fly below the radar. We need to integrate those in our common narrative, such that we might inspire one another and then inspire a new generation.
Thus, my modest proposal. Let’s stop talking about “saving the culture.” Nothing communicates impending doom quite like those three words. The next generation should not come into the world with the duty to save a culture—nor would they want to, with an expression that conveys so little enthusiasm. We have to supply them with reasons to take interest in the French language and in their heritage. We have to offer them something worth celebrating, something that they can fully make their own. Their interpretation of Franco-American culture may, in 25 years, look very different from what we now know, but it will be a vibrant culture rather than a fossil.
There are now countless initiatives led by unsung heroes that do not make the headlines, but are making Franco-American culture a lived reality for young people. At a local level, I am inspired by the passion of French teacher Robert Daigle. Robert has for many years spearheaded a cultural and linguistic exchange between Fort Kent Community High School students and their peers in Cholet, France. He has brought home his students’ heritage by tracing their family trees. In many cases, they need only go back 40 or 50 years—if that—to find that all of their ancestors, bar none, were French-speaking. That is a powerful thought: that “Frenchness” is in their very fiber. Robert is now inviting his students into a larger culture, and with great success, through Manie Musicale.
These are just a few ways by which we can pass the torch to a new generation. They highlight the powerful role schools can play, especially in rural areas. This, of course, is not to shift the burden to overworked teachers who have to meet state mandates and, often, teach to a standardized test. The exemplary campaign led recently by Timothy Beaulieu in southern New Hampshire reminds us that decisions taken outside of the classroom can be just as consequential as those within. Awareness work needs to happen with local administrative offices and schoolboards. Sometimes they need handholding or support—and that is okay. Just last year, the Maine Acadian Heritage Council sponsored performances by the Quebec band Bon Débarras in schools across the St. John Valley. I could think of no better way to introduce elementary-aged children to North American francophone culture. This effort was achievable, it came at little expense, and, best of all, it was fun. Teachers, principals, and parents took note.
As we work to develop a vibrant cultural ecosystem and foster empowerment, we need to occupy as many physical and virtual spaces as possible. We have seen it work in a theater in Montpelier, in a museum in Manchester, and on Instagram. In 2023, at the Acadian Archives, our two-person team had 1,800 points of contact with the public, much of it owing to educational programming for all ages and to our growing online presence. By normalizing Franco-Americanness, all of these endeavors can instill a sense of pride and attachment in young people, who will be more likely to recognize the value of their unique experience and embrace their heritage. We can all lend our voices and our hands to that effort by committing to several events every year; demanding more of our institutions; writing to policymakers; subscribing to virtual platforms; expressing our concerns to teachers and superintendents; sharing French-heritage culture with those who don’t necessarily identify with it; and, crucially, communicating with media outlets.
The “saving the culture” narrative also tends to lose sight of what’s at stake, including the positive asset that Franco-Americanness can be. Heritage can help young people form a sense of self and bind communities in a sense of solidarity and belonging. Multilingualism broadens a person’s cultural and economic horizons immeasurably. Exposure to different traditions and lifestyles deepens a sense of empathy for those with different experiences. Culture opens spaces for creative self-expression. I am the first to admit that there is no magic formula. From my years of involvement in cultural endeavors and my time at the Acadian Archives, I join many readers in acknowledging outsized challenges. But we can experiment, we can explore the means at our disposal, and we can recognize that one of the most powerful tools we have, in this age of storytelling, is the narrative. Let’s continue to build on a history of resilience. Let’s build on what works and celebrate it. Nothing succeeds like success.
An earlier version of this article appeared in the winter 2024 issue of Le Forum. Please cite appropriately.