By Kathleen Villeneuve
Translated by Robert Twiss from an original publication in HistoireEngagée.ca
On November 25 to 26, 2021 the Université de Montréal hosted the workshop “Settler Colonialism in Quebec: a blind spot of academic research?” Organized by professors Catherine Larochelle and Ollivier Hubert, the aim of the workshop was to survey the state of research in settler colonial studies, a field which, while it is more developed outside the province, is still in its infancy in Quebec. The workshop was therefore conceived as a first step in the development of the study of Quebecois colonialism, in a context in which “colonial agnosia” still limits debate, in this province perhaps more than elsewhere. The presentations were grouped into thematic panels representing the physical and symbolic spaces through which settler colonialism carves a path.
This week in a five part series, we are sharing with you the ideas discussed in November. Today, in our second instalment, we focus on Jean-Philippe Bernard, Mathieu Arsenault, Adèle Clapperton-Richard, Caroline Desbiens and Justine Gagnon presentations about the land. In Quebec, as in other settler–colonial sites, the settlers came to stay and to take over Indigenous territories.
While the study of words permits the exploration of colonialism’s rhetorical universe and collective representations, the way in which colonialism operates in physical space is also a fundamental component that must not be neglected. Continue reading
On a cold February night in 1968, Bernie Langille drove his friends to play darts and have a drink at CFB Gagetown. The next morning, his wife found him bloody and bruised in bed without knowing what happened. He was taken to the base’s hospital where it was recommended he be flown to Halifax for immediate treatment. After a 4-hour delay in ordering the flight, an assault by one of the doctors, and his ambulance being in a collision with a train, he finally made it to the hospital in Halifax, but it was too late. The rather unusual circumstances of Langille’s death led to many questions for his family and speculation by the community. Over 50 years later, the deep pain remains for the Langille family and has led Bernie Langille’s grandson – also named Bernie – to revisit his grandfather’s death in a search for truth and healing.
Elizabeth Mancke
In 2022, mime is probably not what you think of when discussing popular culture. The image of an individual with their face painted white, probably acting like they are trapped in a box, doesn’t demand attention within the ever-so-crowded cultural landscape. At the same time, however, the idea of 
I always thought that I was alone in connecting my personal surroundings to those I was researching. From the First World War soldier who wrote about loving and missing going to the theatre to the CBC producer who hated the number of memos they got, relating to people from the past and connecting them to our current world was a fun thought experiment as I waded through seemingly endless archival files. Over time, though, I have learned that a lot of people do this, whether in an effort to contextualize a person’s experiences, gain greater appreciation for those from the past, or just discover interesting anecdotes. Whatever the reason, making connections between past and present is a much more common practice than I once thought.
In 1968, American architect 
If you’ve visited Toronto for any length of time, you’ve probably found yourself on Yonge St. Starting on the shores of Lake Ontario, the street includes theatres, the Eaton Centre, the Air Canada Centre, and one of the city’s subway lines. Every day, thousands of people head to the street to work, shop, and socialize. As with any major street, however, Yonge Street has undergone significant changes over the past 70 years. From questions over accessibility and transportation to debates on the morality of certain commercial establishments and their clientele to reflecting Toronto’s emergence as the most prominent centre within Canada’s business community, Yonge Street has been a place where broad questions of power, community, and economics have played out from block to block.