French Canadians - The Separatists

I went to Canada several times when I was a young man. A few times to Fort McHenry, a time or two I located the spot where my grandfather and his brothers and sisters immigrated from - Hamilton, Canada. But, I never paid much attention to Canada - they talked funny, it was cold up there, and Niagara Falls was wet and misty.
     Big Falls, running river - got it. Every time I met people from Canada down in the US, they were always falling south into America looking for jobs and talked funny. Nice people but I never caught on to why they came here.
     During Vietnam, I why the hell did they do that? I thought Canadians ALL spoke English? What's going on up there? Then I read, hear, watch OUR news and I hear about possible cessation of areas around and including Quebec into a separate French state.
     They tangle with the central Canadian government, it's all settled, no soap, and that's that. But, everyone up there is still hot under the collar about this French thing.
      Two weeks ago, three middle aged French Canadians walk into my B-17 Museum in Tucson, I show them around, and in the process, we talk. I know nothing and they enlighten me.
      It's all about language. They tell me the French are afraid of losing their French identity -legally- and being forced to speak, read, write English and any and all signs of their French heritage wiped away by Fiat. They are not only scared to death of it, they are angry as hell about they say they see as creeping governmental interference in everyday life.
     For instance: Street signs, say, "Jones Street" has to be posted that way on the top of the sign, and the French translation MUST appear below it. They see it as a secondary or lowering of their French status. All sorts of examples are creeping around them and they are annoyed as hell about it.
     As they explained more incursions into their private French lifestyles, I found myself getting more heated over their discomfort. At one point, I hollered out, " THEY CAN'T DO THAT - I'D FIGHT THEM!!" One of the older men laughed at me, breaking the tension.
     " How typical American, "  said, " you've got the right to do it down here. Under Canadian law, we don't." I was shocked. The concussion of freedom hit me full force. My own Constitution gave me the right to raise hell whereas these three middle aged men couldn't do what I take for granted because, as they said, they ran the risk of jail for demonstrating against what was now a law.
     As they left, I found myself raising my fist and speaking out to them, " go back and raise hell you guys." Every day in that Museum, I learn another story about someone else in the world living out under hardships I would never learn in a textbook, or watching our news-media.
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