When high school students don't see themselves reflected in what they're taught, how can we foster their sense of belonging and prevent them from dropping out? Angle mort (Blind spot), an educational card game created by Philo-Boxe and Exeko, addresses this question by bringing to life the erased histories of Quebec's racialized communities.
Tuesday, August 26, 5 p.m., at Chalet Kent in Côte-des-Neiges. With its high wooden ceilings, a ping-pong table in the center of the room, and a few teenagers absorbed by a PlayStation a little further away, the youth center lives up to its name. The scent of Haitian dishes mixes with Lebanese ones. The plates, much like the room, reflect a multi-ethnic Montreal.
This is where the first presentation of Angle mort is taking place—the educational card game designed to enrich high school history lessons by making students feel seen and heard in school narratives. Two teams quickly form around the ping-pong table. The high school students are front and center, while curious adults join the game.
Christine Chevalier-Caron, a history professor and co-author of the game, asks the first question: "How does the Sir George Williams affair show that several inequalities barred access to education for certain communities?"
Silence in the room. A few faces tense up until a hesitant voice speaks up: "Does that have to do with the history of Guy-Concordia?"
A participant recounts how, in the late 1960s, Black students exposed a biology professor accused of failing students from their community to prevent them from accessing the medical program. Chevalier-Caron completes the story. Around the table, faces light up. They discover. They learn.
Strengthening bonds between teachers and students by recognizing the history of racialized communities
If teenagers are discovering little-known parts of Quebec history tonight, it's thanks to Karim Coppry, founder of Philo-Boxe. He isn't a teacher, but he interacts with the young people he trains with every day. What often comes up in his discussions with them is the discomfort students feel not only with history classes but also with their teachers.
"With this game, our goal was really to improve teacher-student relationships. At first, we thought about a more relational game, with discussions and themes, but it was too complex. So, we went back to a simple formula: question-and-answer, based on the official curriculum, but with angles that aren't discussed in the Quebec school system," the founder says. "We also wanted to create a tool that offers possibilities to teachers. So they don't just feel like they're 'getting through the material' but that they're involved in a dialogue with students," Coppry continues.
For him, the real challenge is creating that bond between teachers and students. "Teachers are important figures for young people. The youth spend about 90 per cent of their time with them. So, it's important that in a school setting, there's this space for dialogue and this space for recognizing each other. This bond could also help young people avoid dropping out and even [encourage] academic grit," he believes.
He adds that history and Quebec culture and citizenship classes play a decisive role in students' education. But what happens when students find no reference points for themselves in the collective narrative? "It's obviously harder. It's complicated to feel like an active member of society. This is why it's important to integrate diverse core moments, struggles, and recent contributions from certain communities so that all communities can recognize themselves in the education system," Karim insists.
He mentions, in particular, the history of jazz, championed by Caribbean communities in Montreal.
"This city was a hub, but it's barely mentioned in school. That makes it so only those who know the history of Little Burgundy have access to it. Yet, it's a legitimate source of pride for these communities. It shows that they are not confined to certain clichés but have contributed something to Quebec and Canadian society."
"They don't explain what really happened [in history]"
As the game ends, a few teenagers stay behind at the chalet. The conversation shifts to how history is taught to them. Amidst laughter and banter, a common theme emerges: many, who are from immigrant backgrounds, say they feel a lack of belonging.
Ines, of Moroccan descent, is in secondary four. She confesses: "In secondary one, two and three, we never talked about my community in history. When I'm in history class, it might interest me, but I don't feel like it concerns me. It only talks about Quebecers... I'm a Quebecer, but I don't feel like one," she admits.
She regrets that the subject doesn't reflect Quebec's true diversity. "It's a shame because history is the only subject where we really talk about societies. We should either talk about all communities or none," she concludes.
The same is true for Zacharias, who will soon turn 18 and has just graduated from high school. "I found history classes a bore... I wasn't interested; it was boring. Teachers only talk the whole time." he says. When asked if a more fun approach would change his relationship with the subject, he responds enthusiastically. "Of course! Actually, I had a teacher who helped me pass my exam because he would ask one question at the beginning of class, and then we had to discuss and participate," he recounts.
For the young man, a game like Angle mort is much more relevant. "I would definitely like it if we talked about all the communities that have contributed to society in Quebec. It would interest me more than hearing over and over again about how Quebecers came and stole the land from Indigenous people. We don't talk about Jewish people, we talk about Indigenous people, [we talk] briefly about Black people, and on top of that, they don't explain what really happened. When we talk about Indigenous people, they don't teach us about the church's role in the massacres, for example," he says.
Countering current narratives on immigration with the help of history
For history professor Chevalier-Caron, the problem is clear: the history taught in high school is told from a eurocentric and French-Canadian nationalist perspective. The result is that it gives the impression that immigration is a recent phenomenon, that only dates back to the 1980s. "Yet, the majority of communities here in Quebec have been present since the 18th or 19th century," she emphasizes.
It's this historical depth that the teacher is trying to highlight. She gives a telling example: the Haitian community, which arrived in large numbers in the 1960s. "Many were fleeing the Duvalier regime. They were doctors, teachers, professionals who contributed directly to the Quiet Revolution. At the time, there were very few French-speaking Quebec doctors or lawyers," she says.
The arrival of the Haitian community was a turning point in contemporary Quebec history, the professor continues. "But that's not what we see in history textbooks. Knowing this would allow [Haitian students] to realize that 'we built the healthcare system, you know!'"
According to Chevalier-Caron, this knowledge would help counter narratives that display immigration as a recent phenomenon and show students from immigrant backgrounds that they are not just "newcomers" but have been an integral part of Quebec's social fabric for a long time.
"In fact, there are major gaps in how we teach history here," the professor insists, lamenting both the government's inaction on the matter and an inadequate curriculum.
This is not the first time the teacher has reflected on a history course she wishes were more inclusive. She has already worked on school textbooks and has often been forced to leave these stories out. With Angle mort, she can finally bring them back to the center of attention.
However, Chevalier-Caron is aware that any change in history teaching provokes mixed reactions, and that Angle mort won't be received the same way everywhere. She specifically remembers the uproar in 2018 when all textbooks were removed from classrooms to replace the term "Indians" with "First Nations" or "Indigenous." "Half the teachers welcomed this progress, but the other half said, 'You're changing our history, you just want a wipeout, a historical revisionism!'" she recounts, highlighting powerful lobbying influences. In an amused tone, she concludes: "I think there are environments where we will be very well received, and others where they will shout and accuse us of sabotaging Quebec's national history."
But for the students, the effects could be decisive. "Those who don't see themselves reflected at all in the school narrative will finally see that their history is being taken into account. It creates pride, a sense of belonging," the professor believes. And for the white Quebec majority, she adds, "it can shed light on facts, help deconstruct certain stereotypes, and nuance political or media narratives about immigration. It's a way to create a true intercultural exchange, to bring groups closer together, to see our common points, and to have a greater sensitivity to understanding the historical injustices that some groups have experienced and are still experiencing today," she continues.
"Now there are no more excuses"
Faced with these observations of exclusion and disinterest, some teachers are trying to reinvent the way history is taught. This is what Sarah*, a history teacher at a Montreal high school, is trying to do. With a colourful headscarf tied on her head, golden jewelry, and purple mascara, she reflects the freshness and boldness of this new way of teaching.
"I have the chance and privilege of coming from an anti-racist activist background in Montreal. So, I was already aware of how history is done and why it's told in one way or another. For me, it was important to de-center and decolonize the content I presented to students," the teacher says.
According to Sarah, history is a science, and every teacher can choose their angle of analysis, whether it's feminist, decolonial, or something else. "But you already have to have that knowledge and be sensitive to those approaches. I have a lot of Haitian students in my classes, and while it's not in the curriculum, I still talk about the Haitian Revolution, and it makes them proud to see that their history matters, just like the history of the 19th and 20th centuries," she explains.
The professor, however, acknowledges that this type of teaching requires time and skills that not all teachers have. "Our workload is heavy, and sometimes we don't have time to look for other resources," she laments.
It was precisely with this reality in mind that Angle mort was designed: to be a tool that serves both students and teachers, without adding to their workload. A gamble that seems to have paid off for Sarah: "Now, with a ready-made product, there are no more excuses," she says with a quiet laugh.
Over the next few months, Coppry and Chevalier-Caron want to expand the project, create partnerships with schools throughout the Greater Montreal area, train teachers on how to use it, and ensure a wider distribution of Angle mort in classrooms. Coming to a classroom near you soon!
*Sarah's first name has been changed to avoid any risk of retaliation.
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