Franco-Cité

Franco-Cité

“Parce qu’on n’avait rien de mieux à faire.” — Official Motto

Overview

Franco-Cité is a mysterious French Catholic high school located somewhere between Ottawa and another dimension entirely. The building was reportedly constructed in 1989 after a group of francophone monks accidentally summoned it while trying to conjugate the verb avoir in all 47 tenses. Since then, it has served as a beacon of questionable French grammar, plaid uniforms, and the smell of poutine lingering in the halls.

History

According to legend, Franco-Cité was founded by Saint Guy de la Cafétéria, who declared that all students must suffer through cours de religion and at least one broken Chromebook. The school grew rapidly when the government realized that teenagers could be contained by locking them inside a massive brick labyrinth filled with motivational posters in both official languages.

In 1997, the school introduced the Uniform Rebellion, a dark time when students tried to express individuality by wearing slightly different shades of navy blue. The administration responded swiftly by banning creativity altogether.

Campus

The school is shaped like an “L,” symbolizing both Learning and Loss. Its hallways form a perfect maze designed so that no student can ever find their way to the gym without Google Maps. The library is rumored to contain one real book, guarded by a librarian who hasn’t blinked since 2003.

Academics

Franco-Cité proudly offers the full range of subjects:

French (mandatory, eternal, inescapable)

English (the forbidden tongue)

Religion (mainly about group projects that nobody finishes)

Math (invented to make students suffer for their past grammar mistakes)

Physical Education (a ritual involving running in circles and pretending to care about badminton)

Students are graded on a top-secret scale known only to teachers and possibly the Vatican.

School Culture

Every morning, students gather for the Annonce du Matin, a sacred chant broadcast through speakers last maintained during the Napoleonic Wars. The announcements consist of three hours of static followed by someone saying “bonne journée” in an exhausted tone.

Spirit Week is a yearly festival of confusion featuring Pajama Day, Reverse Day, and Whatever-That-Was Day.

The school mascot is Le Faucon, a majestic bird rumored to be a recycled seagull that once stole someone’s Tim Hortons bagel in the parking lot.

Sports

Franco-Cité’s sports teams, known as the Faucons, are feared across the region for their ability to lose with exceptional enthusiasm. Their greatest victory came in 2009 when the opposing team didn’t show up.

The gym is also used for assemblies, dodgeball, and spontaneous existential crises.

Technology

All students receive a Chromebook that works exactly 63% of the time. The Wi-Fi runs on holy water and disappointment. Every login requires a pilgrimage through 12 forgotten Google accounts.

Famous Alumni

Jean-Claude du Casier – Invented the concept of forgetting your locker combination for four years straight.

Marie-Josée “la Légende” Tremblay – Survived four snow days in a row without losing her French accent.

Unknown Student #452 – Still wandering the halls, looking for room 212.

Traditions

The Carnaval d’Hiver features games like “Guess What’s in the Snowbank” and “Run Before the Bell Rings.” Every June, the graduating class performs the sacred Dance of the Missing Permission Slip before being released into the wild.

Criticism

Critics argue that Franco-Cité is less a school and more an experiment in bilingual containment. Supporters respond, “At least the poutine’s decent.”

Motto

“Travail, Foi, et Trouver du Wi-Fi.” (Work, Faith, and Finding Wi-Fi.)Overview

Franco-Cité is Ottawa’s most legendary French Catholic high school, known for educating generations of confused teenagers, caffeine-fueled teachers, and one actual falcon that’s still on payroll. Officially described as “une école secondaire,” it’s more accurately a time loop disguised as a building.

History

In the 1980s, the City of Ottawa needed somewhere to store all the excess French conjugations they couldn’t fit in other schools. A secret committee of priests, engineers, and janitors met under the full moon and founded Franco-Cité.

According to the Chroniques de la Directrice, the school first appeared after a lightning bolt struck a giant pile of Bescherelles (French grammar books). The next morning, students were already late for class.

Architecture

Franco-Cité’s design was inspired by the concept of confusion. The hallways lead in perfect circles, the stairs end abruptly, and the doors sometimes move when no one’s looking. The building is shaped like an “L” — for Labyrinthe.

The air smells faintly of printer toner, expired pizza, and existential dread.

Notable Facilities

The Cafeteria of Eternal Lineups – Students have seen entire semesters pass while waiting for a slice of pizza.

The Library of Forbidden Texts – Contains one real book, three broken printers, and 47 posters about plagiarism.

Gym A & Gym B – Identical except one is slightly haunted.

Academics

Students at Franco-Cité study a rigorous curriculum designed to prepare them for life, or at least to survive period 4.

Core Courses

French – Where teachers speak 200 words per minute while students just nod.

Religion – Mostly PowerPoints about being kind, followed by group projects that no one starts.

Math – A ritual of pain conducted with TI-84 calculators and tears.

English – The mysterious elective where the teacher says “Today we’ll do Shakespeare” and never does.

Science – Features the annual Exploding Volcano Festival.

Technology

The school distributes Chromebooks built from recycled hopes and dreams. Wi-Fi speed ranges from “almost working” to “prehistoric dial-up.” Every login screen begins with a prayer:

“Our Google, who art in the Cloud…”

Famous Teachers Mme. Tremblay (a.k.a. The Eternal French Teacher)

Has allegedly been teaching Grade 9 French since 1862. She can smell fear and detect when a student used Google Translate. Rumor says she does not sleep—she conjugates.

Mr. Bouchard (Keeper of the Gym Whistle)

A man powered entirely by Gatorade and pure rage. Once made a student run laps for saying “I forgot my shoes.” He’s still blowing that whistle, somewhere.

Mme. Lavoie (Guardian of Room 101)

Teaches Religion but is secretly guarding the school’s deepest secret (see below 👇).

M. Lefebvre (The IT Prophet)

He can fix Chromebooks only by glaring at them. His natural enemy is the student who says, “It’s not working.”

Culture

Franco-Cité students communicate in a sacred dialect known as Frenglish:

“Bro, t’as vu le test de math, c’était un trauma collectif, legit.”

Morning announcements are broadcast through a speaker system invented by cavemen and powered by prayer. They consist of 30 seconds of static followed by a sigh and “Bonne journée.”

Spirit Week events include:

Pyjama Day

Reverse Day

Wear-Your-Uniform-Properly-for-Once Day

Jeudi du Chaos (no one knows what happens; everyone participates)

Sports

The Faucons are Franco-Cité’s sports teams, known for their unmatched ability to lose heroically. Their school cheer is:

“Faucons! On essaie!” (Falcons! We tried!)

The gym is also used for dodgeball, pep rallies, and at least one exorcism a semester.

The Secret Conspiracy: The Hidden Basement of Room 101

Deep beneath Room 101 lies Le Sous-Sol Interdit, a mysterious underground chamber sealed since the late 1990s.

Rumors claim:

It contains the Original Report Card, written in Latin.

The Wi-Fi there actually works.

A single vending machine that still accepts coins.

Students who attempt to enter reportedly vanish, only to reappear at the bus stop with a slightly better understanding of Grade 12 French.

Mme. Lavoie, its guardian, insists there’s “nothing down there,” which is exactly what someone guarding a portal would say.

Famous Alumni

Jacques “The Latecomer” Leblanc – Holds the record for most tardies without being expelled.

Sophie du Casier – Spent 4 years trying to open her locker; graduated by default.

Mysterious Falcon #1 – School mascot, last seen swooping into the cafeteria and stealing someone’s fries.

That One Kid Named Alex – Every generation has one; no one knows which Alex you mean.