Enrique Aranda

Contributor

It’s been three semesters since Bill 96 started changing life at English CEGEPs, and it’s become clear that this law isn’t just about protecting French. It’s an anti-immigration law disguised as language reform, and it’s changing who gets to learn, belong, and succeed in Quebec.

What was supposed to “strengthen French” has turned into something that punishes

students whose first language isn’t French, especially immigrants, allophones, and Indigenous

youth. The message is pretty obvious: if you’re not a native French speaker, you don’t fully

belong here.

The first thing students noticed was the new mandatory French courses. People who came to CEGEP to study science, business, or arts now have to take multiple French classes each

semester, whether they want to or not. It’s a heavier workload and way more stress.

“It’s more work than I expected, but I feel my French is improving,” said psychology

student Silvana Pulido. However, not everyone feels that way. A lot of us already juggle jobs and family responsibilities, told that our education isn’t valid unless it’s in French. At this point, it’s not even about learning the language. It’s about proving loyalty to it.

To accomodate the new French requirements, English CEGEPs have been forced  to cut electives and foreign language classes to make space. This means fewer chances to try something new, like Italian, Japanese, or creative writing. It may appear minor, but that freedom to explore is central to what CEGEP is designed to offer. Bill 96 isn’t improving education, it’s shrinking it. And, the students hit the hardest are usually those who already have the most to overcome: newcomers, kids of immigrants, andIndigenous students.

Then there’s the whole issue of the Certificate of Eligibility. Without it, it’s harder to get into English CEGEPs, even if you’ve always studied in English. It’s basically an invisible law.

This isn’t about protecting French; it’s about controlling who gets access to English education.

That’s not language policy. That’s gatekeeping.

The worst impact is on Indigenous students. Many come from communities where

English or Indigenous languages are what they actually use every day, and French might be a

third language. Bill 96 treats them like outsiders in their own province.

One First Nation student told me: “The new French course requirements have created another barrier for Indigenous students to get their degrees. Even one bad grade in a French course can mess up your R-score and make it harder to get into university.”

Dawson College added a Kanien’kéha (Mohawk language) course to replace one French class,

which is a nice step, but it’s still not enough.

“We’re still being forced to learn in a language that isn’t ours, just to prove we belong,” the

student said.

It’s not just about grades, either.

“The extra French classes and the exit exam stressed me out so much I started looking at

universities in the U.S. instead. It’s not that I hate French, I just don’t want to be punished for not

being fluent.”

Even with help from places like the First People’s Centre, a lot of Indigenous students

still struggle because they’re forced to learn in a language that was once used to erase their own. Bill 96 keeps that cycle going. It’s supposed to promote French, but it ends up undermining reconciliation and making Indigenous students feel like they don’t belong.

At Dawson and other English CEGEPs, students are finding ways to adapt, not because the system is fair, but because there is no other option. People are forming study groups, tutoring circles, and French conversation clubs just to get through.

“It’s definitely stressful,” said General Social Science student Hoang Le Pham, “but I’ve learned

to manage my time better.”

Still, most of us agree the cost is too high. “I wish we still had more electives,” said

Myranda Andreu. “It feels like we’re losing part of what made CEGEP fun, the freedom to

explore.”

Students are doing what students always do, making the best out of bad policy. But

adapting doesn’t mean agreeing…

Bill 96 was sold as a way to protect Quebec’s culture. But protecting one language

shouldn’t mean erasing others. For immigrants and Indigenous people, it sends a clear message: your languages, your backgrounds, and your ways of learning are seen as problems.

French doesn’t need to be defended from students. It needs to be supported through inclusion,

better education, and respect for linguistic diversity. Instead, the government chose to control and restrict.

Unfortunately, three semesters in, Bill 96 hasn’t brough people together, it’s pushed them apart. It’s driving students away, silencing diversity, and forcing Indigenous youth to pick between

belonging and success.

If the goal was to preserve culture, it’s doing the opposite. It’s creating frustration,

alienation, and loss.
Language should be something that connects us, not something that divides us. Until Quebec’s leaders realize that students like us: immigrants, Indigenous people, those with an English education, aren’t the problem, we will keep paying the price.