Language a barrier for top anesthetist
Children's losing MD who failed French

YVONNE ZACHARIAS and CAMPBELL CLARK
The Gazette

Quebec is losing one of its top pediatric anesthetists, at a time when they are in short supply, largely because Quebec's language police have threatened to lift his license to practice if he does not learn French.

Terry Yemen, head of the department of anesthesia at the Montreal Children's Hospital, has had it with the bullying from the Office de la Langue Francaise.

The Saskatchewan native said yesterday he is packing up and moving back to Virginia this summer, having decided his job here is no longer worth the fight. He just wants to warn professionals from the rest of Canada what they could face if they come to Quebec.

"I'm hitting my head against the wall," he said in an interview. Yemen's departure could hardly come at a worse time for the Children's. He estimates that by July, when he is planning to pull up stakes, the number of anesthetists at the Children's will be down to five, about half the normal number and less than half the 14 the Montreal Regional Health Board deems appropriate for the hospital. The shortage is so acute "there are probably not 15 or 20 in the whole province," he said.

Office spokesman Gilles Racine said he was surprised by Yemen's statements, given that the Office has done nothing to stop him from practicing in Quebec despite his lack of French.

Yemen's story goes back to July 1996, when he arrived in Quebec, brimming with hope that he, his wife and their three children would learn French.

He was concerned that he didn't already know the language. However, his employer, the McGill University college of medicine, assured him it was no big deal. He has since learned otherwise.

Despite his hectic schedule at the hospital, he took language classes at McGill University two nights a week in the fall of 1996 and the winter of 1997 with a view to passing French-competence exams the Office administers to professionals.

The Quebec government allows four years to pass the exam, with a professional working on a temporary one-year license until then.

To have his temporary license renewed last April, he had to take an exam to demonstrate he was learning French. He didn't expect to pass all of it and was rather pleased that he managed to pass even a small part of it.

Instead of congratulating him for that small victory, the Office started badgering him, according to his version of events.

Office staff asked him why he wasn't taking courses over the summer. Yemen said he needed a little break from work, and time with his wife and three kids. They then warned him they had the power to lift his license.

"It left a bitter taste in my mouth."

Yemen started to worry when a month passed and he still hadn't received word from the Office that his license was being renewed. He took the problem to the McGill college of medicine, which, in turn, made a phone call to the Office.

A week later, he got a letter saying his license had been approved.

But his problems didn't stop. He said he got a phone call from the Office questioning not only his language ability but his ancestry. They asked him how he had managed to become head of the department of anesthesia when he is not French.

With the shortage of anesthetists at the hospital and the ice storm this winter, he was swamped with work, so he stopped taking French courses. It wasn't unusual for him to work 65 to 70 hours a week. Now he has decided against writing the mandatory exam in April, knowing full well he won't pass. Instead, he has decided to give it all up and move out.

As far as he can see, the province's French Language Charter was never meant to be applied so rigidly. He wondered whether bureaucrats were acting on their own whim.

"This is a terribly arbitrary situation here. These guys have the power to make or break you depending on whether or not they like you that day." He said he can't even complain to a governing body because of his lack of French. He also can't remember a time when his life was so volatile because of politics.

But Racine can't see how the Office should be held responsible for this decision. He pointed out that the Office renewed Yemen's license last April though he failed three of the four sections on the French-proficiency exam.

Given the need for anesthetists, "we considered it to be in the public's interest to renew."

Yemen has every reason to believe his license would be extended again if he were to present himself for a test this spring, as required by the office, Racine said.

But he hasn't done so.

"He is leaving not because he was refused but because he hasn't asked."

In Quebec, Liberal MNA Russell Williams said the Office is simply pestering Yemen, even though he has made efforts to learn French.

"Given the shortage (of anesthetists) we have, we should be embracing these experts," Williams said.

Health Minister Jean Rochon could not be reached for comment.

In Montreal, Racine couldn't think of a single case in which a professional has been forced to stop practicing in Quebec because he couldn't meet language requirements.

About 50 per cent of those examined pass the test on the first try, he said.

"In a general way, the Office gives its approval but it's not automatic," he said.

"The public have the right to be served and cared for in French."

Yemen couldn't agree more.

"I think it would be as stupid of me to say that I can come here and be English and not learn French as it would be to say I'm going to go to Saskatchewan and not learn English. You're clearly not going to thrive in a society."

But if Quebec wants professionals from the rest of Canada, it has to find more palatable solutions. "Don't make one size fits all."

He admits that learning a second language is not easy for him.

But he said he plans to keep trying, even after he leaves. For he's definitely decided to go.

"For me, it's over."