When international students picture studying in Canada, the first images that come to mind often involve English-speaking campuses in Toronto, Vancouver, or perhaps Ottawa. Yet, Canada is not a monolingual country. Quebec, with its strong French heritage, operates largely in French, and the University of Montreal (Université de Montréal, or UdeM) stands at the heart of this cultural duality. What sets it apart isn’t just its academic reputation but also how it structures bilingual opportunities for students who arrive from all corners of the globe.
That being said, the concept of a “bilingual program” at UdeM doesn’t always mean what people expect. Some assume it must mean every class is offered in both French and English at all times, which isn’t exactly the case. Instead, the approach feels more like a layered system where English-speaking students can gradually access French, and French speakers are given ways to strengthen or use English in academic settings. This flexibility is what makes UdeM intriguing, but it can also be a little confusing at first glance.
The Reality of a Francophone Institution with Global Aspirations
UdeM is technically a French-language university. Nearly all of its programs are taught in French, and Quebec’s provincial laws reinforce the centrality of French in higher education. That’s not a small detail—it means students considering UdeM have to be willing, at least in some capacity, to engage with French. Still, to stop there would oversimplify what the university offers.
The bilingual element emerges in several ways. For one, UdeM has certain graduate-level programs that can be pursued in English, particularly in fields such as neuroscience, computer science, and certain business-related disciplines. Professors in these programs often publish in English, collaborate with international research teams, and deliver lectures in English, even though the university itself promotes French as the primary medium.
What complicates the picture, and perhaps makes it richer, is that many courses don’t require students to write or speak exclusively in French. In some departments, students can submit papers and assignments in English even if the lectures are delivered in French. This sort of pragmatic bilingualism may not look neatly packaged on a brochure, but for students who are still building confidence in French, it provides a lifeline.
Language Support Structures That Actually Matter
Anyone who has tried to pick up a second language as an adult knows it’s rarely just about the classroom. UdeM appears to understand this. Alongside formal instruction, the university runs language support services such as the Centre de communication écrite and the École de langues. Here, students can take tailored French language courses ranging from basic grammar to advanced academic writing. These aren’t filler classes either—they’re deeply connected to the academic experience and designed to help students meet the specific demands of university-level French.
On the English side, resources are a bit less pronounced, largely because English-language dominance in academic publishing already gives students access to English material by default. Still, the language center provides workshops in English academic writing for francophone students who want to publish internationally or pursue careers where English communication is essential.
Critically, these supports make the bilingual aspect feel less intimidating. A student arriving from, say, Mexico City or Nairobi may initially fear being drowned in French, but the university seems to anticipate that anxiety and has built pathways to help. The effectiveness of these supports, of course, depends heavily on student motivation and the department’s flexibility. Some students thrive under the challenge; others may quietly wish the university leaned further toward structured bilingualism.
Why This Model Appeals to International Students
From the outside, UdeM’s bilingual offer might appear messy. But this very messiness can be attractive. Unlike universities that simply present parallel English and French tracks, UdeM requires students to navigate the interplay of both languages. For international students, this means that after three or four years, they don’t just graduate with a degree—they may also walk away with functional bilingualism, a skill set that carries enormous weight in Canada and beyond.
Take, for instance, the job market in Montreal. Employers regularly expect candidates to switch between French and English in the same conversation. UdeM’s environment essentially forces students to practice that skill long before graduation. It’s not just about passing classes; it’s about learning how to live and work in a bilingual city.
That said, one could argue that the learning curve is steep. Unlike universities in Ottawa, which is more overtly bilingual, Montreal leans heavily toward French in day-to-day life. Students who thought they could “get by with English” sometimes find themselves struggling outside campus, whether at the grocery store or in part-time jobs. So, while UdeM offers bilingual supports, the surrounding city culture tilts the balance strongly toward French. For some, that’s motivating. For others, it’s a dealbreaker.
The Subtle Politics of Language in Quebec
It’s impossible to discuss bilingual programs at UdeM without acknowledging the broader political landscape. Quebec has long been protective of French, passing laws like Bill 101, which aims to safeguard French in public life. Universities, though, operate in a slightly more flexible space. UdeM, while remaining committed to French, knows that attracting international students is vital for its future, and those students often arrive expecting English-language access.
This balancing act creates an interesting tension. On one hand, UdeM markets itself internationally with the promise of bilingual accessibility. On the other hand, it maintains its identity as a Francophone institution. Some critics suggest that the bilingual branding may oversell the reality—students who arrive expecting a fully bilingual campus sometimes find themselves underprepared for the amount of French required. Others, however, see the balance as a fair compromise: UdeM protects its cultural identity while still opening doors to global students.
Personal Anecdotes and Student Perspectives
When I spoke to a friend who studied public health at UdeM, she laughed about her first semester: “I thought I was fluent in French until I got to statistics class. Suddenly, I couldn’t follow half the words. But then I realized I could still submit my essays in English, and that saved me.” Her story is far from unique. Many international students describe their experience as a cycle of panic, adjustment, and eventual confidence.
Interestingly, francophone students also benefit from the bilingual setup. A doctoral student in political science once noted that although his classes were conducted entirely in French, most of the academic literature he cited was in English. For him, the bilingual reality wasn’t about lectures or assignments—it was about learning to think critically across two linguistic traditions.
These perspectives highlight something essential: bilingualism at UdeM is not symmetrical. It doesn’t give equal weight to French and English in every domain. Instead, it creates spaces where the two languages interact differently depending on the field, the professor, and the student’s needs.
Looking Ahead: Can UdeM Push Bilingualism Further?
The university may face pressure in the coming years to clarify or expand its bilingual programs. With increasing competition from fully English-speaking universities in Canada, UdeM’s hybrid model could appear less attractive to students who don’t want the added burden of French. Yet, paradoxically, this same feature could remain its strongest draw. For students seeking a deeper cultural immersion, the combination of French rigor with English flexibility is exactly what makes UdeM unique.
There’s also a question of accessibility. While UdeM’s language support services are strong, they may not be enough for students starting with zero French. A more structured bilingual curriculum—where introductory courses are offered in English with gradual transitions into French—could make the university even more appealing. On the flip side, such a shift might risk watering down UdeM’s Francophone identity, something Quebec has no interest in compromising.
Final Thoughts
To study at the University of Montreal is to accept a kind of linguistic experiment. The programs aren’t neatly divided into “English” and “French” but instead push students to negotiate their way through both. For some, this feels like an intellectual challenge and a cultural adventure. For others, it may feel unnecessarily complicated.
Yet perhaps that’s the point. Universities are not only places for acquiring knowledge; they’re spaces where discomfort can fuel growth. UdeM’s bilingual programs don’t hand students a simple, polished bilingualism—they invite them into a lived, sometimes messy, but ultimately rewarding process of learning in two languages. And in a world where cultural flexibility is increasingly valuable, that may be more than enough reason to give the University of Montreal a closer look.