A pair of Métis elders stand in front of a classroom of students who call them “memayrs,” or grandmothers in Michif French.
“Komaw ti t’apel?” one of them calls out from the front of the classroom.
The question translates to “How are you?”
“Ji bin,” replies the class, a slightly different response than the “Ça va bien” you’d typically hear in conventional French.
“I’ll see you again,” the teacher continues, holding up a flash card.
The children repeat the phrase back in Michif French: “Ma twayr encore.”
Connecting to Métis language and culture is so important to the community of St. Laurent in Manitoba’s Interlake, the local English-language school has stopped teaching French, teaching Michif French as a second language instead.
The lessons aren’t given by formally trained teachers, but by memayrs Denise Coutu and Debbie Lavallée.
Grade 4 student Nova Coutu said Michif French is one of her favourite classes, much to the delight of her parents.
“They like that I’m learning it,” said Coutu, with a shy smile. “They start talking Michif to me, and I’ve got to guess what it means.”
Her best friend, Aubree Boudreau, also practises with family and said she likes the way she sounds speaking Michif French.
“It feels like a different language coming out of my mouth,” she said, gesturing to her throat with a chuckle.
The language spoken by the Métis of St. Laurent is a cousin to the more widely spoken Michif Cree.
Coutu and Lavallée said it means a lot to pass their language on to the next generation.
“Sorry to say, but we are losing the language,” Lavallée said. “Back when I went to school, it was a shame put on us.”
Coutu faced similar experiences as a child.
“I went to a school where nuns were teaching, and the nuns were very francophone,” she said.
She was once smacked with a ruler for speaking Michif French in class, she said.
“They didn’t want us to speak our language. They would correct us. I didn’t feel so good about my own language.”
She was dismayed when, decades later, she sent her own child to kindergarten in French, only to have him face the same old attitude toward Michif French.
“The very first week he came home and said, ‘Mommy, you and daddy talk funny,'” she said.
“I’m like, ‘What? Already?'”
That stigma meant generations of Métis people in the community went without learning Michif, Lavallée and Coutu said.
Statistics Canada calls the language endangered, while UNESCO categorizes it as critically endangered.
The memayrs hope to turn that around, one student at a time, using lessons that are both culturally connected and fun.
One popular lesson is playing bingo, using flash cards with pictures of tools and items related to ice fishing, which is still the livelihood of many Métis families in the Interlake.
To win prizes, students have to say the words out loud in Michif French.
Grade 7 student Logan Van Dinther is a regular winner, after his family recently moved to St. Laurent from Winnipeg.
He said the memayrs quickly made him feel at home.
“They’re very sweet and caring, just like a grandma should be,” Van Dinther said.
The 13-year-old said he’s keen to learn languages and likes speaking Michif French so much, he even practises outside the classroom with friends.
“It’s pulling me into the community in a good way, which I really like.”
St. Laurent School said a recent review of students’ work revealed the lessons are sticking.
“I feel optimistic,” Coutu said.
“Earlier in the term, I wasn’t feeling so optimistic,” she said — she was starting to wonder whether the program was really working.
She was encouraged to see the tests come back with strong results.
“They ARE absorbing this. Wow!” she exclaimed, laughing cheerfully.
Lavallée is also proud of their accomplishments.
“It’s very important,” Lavallée said.
But there’s still a lot of work to be done, she said, especially by parents and other older relatives.
“Speak to your kids [in Michif French], speak to your grandchildren,” Lavallée said. “Pass it on.”