A Glimpse On French Education As A Child Of The African Diaspora
Introducing Black Europeans You Should Know
From eighth grade to senior year in France, I was in a special program called section européenne (European course). In Bordeaux, it existed for German and English, and I was in the latter. A teacher advised my parents to enrol me in it because they noticed my boredom during English classes. And for a good reason. I just returned from Cameroon, a country people often forget is francophone AND anglophone.
Depending on who I am speaking to, people are able to detect British and Cameroonian inflexions hidden within my thick French accent. If the British intonation is an influence from my six years living in London, the sweet anglophone Cameroonian undertone is due to Ms Atanga, one of the rare Cameroonian teachers of the collège and lycée Dominique Savio - the French school in Douala - and my holidays spent in Buea and Bamenda, the two main cities of the anglophone South-West region, and also the place Ms Atanga hailed from.
If you have travelled to France, I am sure you have noticed we are not exactly known for being the best with English (come in chat for a little story about my very French father on the topic). So, when I returned to France, English classes felt extremely dull because I could already speak and write, unlike my peers.
The section européenne involved two hours of British and American literature and history each week and one dreaded hour of phonetics every two weeks, on top of the ‘regular’ weekly English hours. If you think it is a lot for pupils, know that we go to school in France as if we are already in a 9 to 5 job.
The program was enriching, even though it had little to do with Europe as it was heavily culturally focused on the USA, to the dismay of our history teacher - an alumnus of St Andrews University in Scotland. Our literature teacher, on the other hand, was an Americanophile. Our literature classes didn’t only consist of reading books; our teacher insisted we learn about the American culture, so when studying books, we would also learn about the context in which they were written or the context of the plot. That’s how we got introduced to the American Civil War, Jim Crow Laws, and the Civil Rights Movement.
At the time, I didn’t connect the dots, but isn’t it ironic that the only time I heard about Blackness in school in France was from an American standpoint? As I learned about the atrocities of slavery and segregation in the United States, there was a clear intention not to teach the abominations France committed in the name of a civilising mission worldwide. It is even more ironic as regions like Guyane, Martinique, Guadeloupe, Réunion, or Nouvelle-Calédonie, technically French territories nowadays, still bear the brunt of a brutal slave and colonial past.
Contribute without strings attached to help me reach my 2024-2025 goal: a.k.a. pay for my driving license. I know not all of us can commit to supporting every writer and artist we love regularly. If you can’t commit to a monthly or annual subscription but still want to support, you can buy me a coffee below.
Rightly because they are French territories, you would innocently expect these regions’ history to be included in the curriculum. Yet, they aren’t. They only have a semblance of relevance during the Miss France pageant. Only then do people marvel at these regions’ ‘exotic’ beauties and accents. Then, once Miss France stops, these territories return to oblivion or are seen as places to spend a holiday in France while being far away from it. The DOM-TOM (French overseas countries), as we call them, are territories French people know exist but belong to an exotic reality, rightly because it appears they magically are part of France as their history has been willingly buried. You wouldn't know about it unless you are from these regions.
The same could be said about France’s ex-colonies in Africa. Growing up in Cameroon from the mid-nineties to the end of the nineties, it was apparent that France was still very much present, with French executives at the helm of banking institutions or other essential industries that drove the country’s economy. It was the golden era of the infamous françafrique, or better said, France’s neocolonialism, despite the massive decolonisation movement of the 1960s. I witnessed all of it as a child of a French expat working for one of the oldest banks created in Central and West Africa in 1853. Yet, I couldn’t be more ignorant of the system.
I won’t talk about other French ex-colonies, but Cameroon has only recently started to grapple with its past with France, and it is not a governmental initiative. For the longest the names of anti-colonialist activists and their tragic ends were not mentioned in any books in Cameroonian schools - not to say that uttering their names was forbidden - so imagine in my French school. The history of Africa consisted of the dates France started colonising it and why Cameroon was called Cameroon1. And that was pretty much it. I probably learned more about the relationship between France and Cameroon by observing my father at work and listening to the Cameroonians coming to our home than at school.
Now, in hindsight, it was truly mind-boggling to observe how strong the French presence was in Africa, while back in France, the country seemed to suffer from selective amnesia. There was not a word in schools about the effects of slavery and colonialism on modern society. Slavery and colonialism weren’t considered chapters in History books like The Revolution or World War II. It is no wonder that to my peers and teachers, the little knowledge I had about colonialism was already a lot AND exotic.
But I only had vague and exhaustive facts. I didn’t have any names or faces in mind. In brief, I had no clue about the people who made Cameroon. After all, what makes history is people. Yet, I couldn’t name someone who fought for Cameroon’s independence or knew about Cameroonians before they got colonised. And it is a thing about the history of colonialism and Africa in the West; it is more often than not faceless. And when we finally hear a name and can put a face on it, it is often used as a prop.
Thank you for reading! Le Journal Curioso is where I share my perspective as an underrated fashion professional and discuss the African diaspora in Europe. A monthly subscription is 6€, and a yearly one is 48€. If you’re enjoying what you read, consider upgrading.
Let me explain my point. In Europe, the struggles of Black people are only validated and understood if they are foreign. It is better if your names are James Baldwin, Nelson Mandela or Myriam Makeba because the racial history of the USA and South Africa serve as the perfect backdrop to clap back at those condemning France as it prides itself on being the country of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen with no segregation, apartheid, and most importantly where race doesn’t matter. Yet, if your name is Barthélémy Bodanga - the first Central African elected to the French parliament from 1946 to 1958 - your name and face will be forgotten because you dared to defy the colonial system by advocating legally (!) for your people in Central Africa.
Barthélémy Bodanga deserves to be remembered in Central Africa and France because he was just like the Guadeloupe, Martinique, Réunion, or Nouvelle-Calédonie members of the Parliament who still fight for their people and land today. He is the blueprint. Yet, nobody remembers him.
I have talked a lot about France, but I believe it is something that can be applied to Europe. Therefore, I’d like to start a new series here introducing Black figures who made history in Europe and their homeland. So stay tuned for Black Europeans You Should Know.
Cameroon takes its name after the Portuguese. In 1472, Fernando Pó was the first European to arrive on the coast of Douala through the Wouri River. It is said that the river had plenty of prawns, so the Portuguese called the Wouri “Rio dos Camarões” (the River of Prawns). That’s how Camarões became Cameroon.
Hello Titanium,
Thank you so much for mentioning this book, I didn't know about! It will be added to my long list of books to read.
It is always fascinating to me to observe how such books are published in the UK whereas in France one needs to go in exile in the USA to have their work taken seriously and published. I don't mean to say the USA and the UK have greener grass, but there's definitely more efforts to publish work that challenges the usual historical narration.
Thanks again for sharing! Do you mind if I share your recommendatio in chat with a mention obviously 😊?
I just spent a year abroad in Paris and the difference in the approach to diversity and the topic of race shocked me. Starting with the way my French classmates would defend laïcité as if it they were being paid by Macron, to realising that vivre ensemble requires one to be French first (ignoring the realities of being French Algerian or French Cameroonian for example…) To my French teacher saying that it is not polite to bring up French colonialism to old French people…. France is really something. Thank you for this piece!