Lindsay Morcom A history of Indigenous languages and how to revitalize them TED
Dene Elder Paul Disain said,
“Our language and culture
is the window through which
we see the world.”
And on Turtle Island,
what is now known as North America,
there’re so many unique
and wonderful ways to see the world.
As a person of Indigenous heritage,
I’m interested in learning
Anishinaabemowin,
which is my heritage language,
because it lets me see the world
through that window.
It lets me connect with my family,
my ancestors, my community, my culture.
And lets me think
about how I can pass that on
to future generations.
As a linguist,
I’m interested in how language
functions generally.
I can look at phonetics and phonology –
speech sounds.
I can look at morphology,
or the structure of words.
I can look at syntax,
which is the structure
of sentences and phrases,
to learn about how humans
store language in our brains
and how we use it to communicate
with one another.
For example,
Anishinaabemowin,
like most Indigenous languages,
is what’s called polysynthetic,
which means that there are
very, very long words,
composed of little tiny pieces
called morphemes.
So I can say, in Anishinaabemowin,
“niwiisin,” “I eat,”
which is one word.
I can say “nimino-wiisin,” “I eat well,”
which is still one word.
I can say “nimino-naawakwe-wiisin,”
“I eat a good lunch,”
which is how many words in English?
Five words in English,
a single word in Anishinaabemowin.
Now, I’ve got a bit of a quiz for you.
In a one-word answer,
what color is that slide?
Audience: Green.
Lindsay Morcom: What color is that slide?
Audience: Green.
LM: What color is that slide?
Audience: Blue.
LM: And what color is that slide?
(Audience murmurs)
Not trick questions, I promise.
For you as English speakers,
you saw two green slides
and two blue slides.
But the way that we categorize colors
varies across languages,
so if you had been Russian speakers,
you would have seen two slides
that were different shades of green,
one that was “goluboy,”
which is light blue,
one that is “siniy,” dark blue.
And those are seen as different colors.
If you were speakers of Anishinaabemowin,
you would have seen slides
that were Ozhaawashkwaa
or Ozhaawashkozi,
which means either green or blue.
It’s not that speakers
don’t see the colors,
it’s that the way they categorize them
and the way that they understand shades
is different.
At the same time,
there are universals in the ways
that humans categorize color,
and that tells us about how human brains
understand and express
what they’re seeing.
Anishinaabemowin
does another wonderful thing,
which is animate, inanimate
marking on all words.
So it’s not unlike how French and Spanish
mark all words as either
masculine or feminine.
Anishinaabemowin
and other Algonquian languages
mark all words
as either animate or inanimate.
The things that you would think
to be animate are animate,
things that have a pulse:
people, animals, growing plants.
But there are other things
that are animate
that you might not guess, like rocks.
Rocks are marked as animate,
and that tells us really interesting
things about grammar,
and it also tells us
really interesting things
about how Anishinaabemowin speakers
relate to and understand
the world around them.
Now, the sad part of that
is that Indigenous languages
are in danger.
Indigenous languages that posses
so much knowledge of culture,
of history,
of ways to relate to one another,
of ways to relate to our environment.
Having been on this land
since time immemorial,
these languages have developed here
and they contain priceless
environmental knowledge
that helps us relate well
to the land on which we live.
But they are, in fact, in danger.
The vast majority of Indigenous
languages in North America
are considered endangered,
and those that are not
endangered are vulnerable.
That is by design.
In our laws, in our policies,
in our houses of governance,
there have been stated attempts
to eliminate Indigenous languages
and cultures in this country.
Duncan Campbell Scott
was one of the architects
of the residential school system.
On tabling a bill that required
mandatory residential school attendance
for Indigenous children in 1920, he said,
“I want to get rid of the Indian problem.
Our objective is to continue
until there is not
a single Indian in Canada
that has not been absorbed
into the body politic
and there is no Indian question,
and no Indian Department;
that is the whole object of this Bill.”
The atrocities that occurred
in residential schools were documented.
In 1907,
P.H. Bryce, who was a doctor
and an expert in tuberculosis,
published a report
that found that in some schools,
25 percent of children had died
from tuberculosis epidemics
created by the conditions in the schools.
In other schools, up to 75 percent
of children had died.
He was defunded by federal government
for his findings,
forced into retirement in 1921,
and in 1922, published
his findings widely.
And through that time,
Indigenous children
were taken from their homes,
taken from their communities
and forced into church-run
residential schools
where they suffered, in many cases,
serious emotional, physical
and sexual abuse,
and in all cases, cultural abuse,
as these schools were designed
to eliminate Indigenous
language and culture.
The last residential school
closed in 1996.
Until that time, 150,000 children or more
attended residential schools
at 139 institutions across the country.
In 2007,
the Indian Residential School
Settlement Agreement came into effect.
It’s the largest class action lawsuit
in Canadian history.
It set aside 60 million dollars
for the establishment of the Truth
and Reconciliation Commission of Canada.
The TRC gifted us with the ability
to hear survivor stories,
to hear impacts
on communities and families
and to gain access to research
that explored the full effect
of residential schools
on Indigenous communities
and on Canada as a whole.
The TRC found that residential schools
constituted what’s called
cultural genocide.
They state that, “Physical genocide
is the mass killing of the members
of a targeted group,
biological genocide is the destruction
of that group’s reproductive capacity.
And cultural genocide is the destruction
of those structures and practices
that allow the group
to continue as a group.”
The stated goals of Duncan Campbell Scott.
So they find that it’s cultural genocide,
although as children’s author
and a great speaker
David Bouchard points out,
when you build a building,
and you build a cemetery
next to that building,
because you know the people
going into that building are going to die,
what do you call that?
The TRC also gifted us
with 94 calls to action,
beacons that can lead the way forward
as we work to reconciliation.
Several of those pertain directly
to language and culture.
The TRC calls us to ensure
adequate, funded education,
including language and culture.
To acknowledge Indigenous rights,
including language rights.
To create an Aboriginal Languages Act
aimed at acknowledging and preserving
Indigenous languages,
with attached funding.
To create a position
for an Aboriginal Languages Commissioner
and to develop postsecondary
language programs
as well as to reclaim place names
that have been changed
through the course of colonization.
At the same time as the Indian
Residential School Settlement Agreement
came into effect,
the United Nations adopted
the United Nations Declaration
on the Rights of Indigenous People
in 2007.
It states that Indigenous people
have the right to establish and control
their own education
systems and institutions
providing education
in their own languages,
in a manner appropriate
to their cultural methods
of teaching and learning.
In 2007,
when that was brought into effect,
four countries voted against it.
They were the United States,
New Zealand, Australia
and Canada.
Canada adopted the United Nations
Declaration on the Rights
of Indigenous People in 2010.
And in 2015, the government
promised to bring it into effect.
So how are we collectively
going to respond?
Here’s the situation that we’re in.
Of the 60 currently spoken
Indigenous languages in Canada,
all but six are considered endangered
by the United Nations.
So, the six that aren’t are Cree,
Anishinaabemowin,
Stoney, Mi’kmaq,
Dene and Inuktitut.
And that sounds really dire.
But if you go on to the Atlas
of the World’s Languages in Danger
through the UNESCO website,
you’ll see a little “r”
right next to that language right there.
That language is Mi’kmaq.
Mi’kmaq has undergone
significant revitalization
because of the adoption
of a self-government agreement
that led to culture
and language-based education,
and now there are Mi’kmaq children
who have Mi’kmaq as their first language.
There’s so much that we can do.
These children are students
in the Mnidoo Mnising
Anishinabek Kinoomaage,
an immersion school on Manitoulin island,
where they learn in Anishinaabemowin.
They arrived at school
in junior kindergarten
speaking very little,
if any, Anishinaabemowin.
And now, in grade three and grade four,
they’re testing at intermediate
and fluent levels.
At the same time,
they have beautifully high self-esteem.
They are proud to be Anishinaabe people,
and they have strong learning skills.
Not all education
has to be formal education either.
In our local community,
we have the Kingston
Indigenous Language Nest.
KILN is an organization now,
but it started six years ago
with passionate community members
gathered around an elder’s kitchen table.
Since then, we have created
weekend learning experiences
aimed at multigenerational learning,
where we focus on passing
language and culture on to children.
We use traditional games,
songs, foods and activities to do that.
We have classes
at both the beginner
and intermediate levels
offered right here.
We’ve partnered with
school boards and libraries
to have resources and language
in place in formal education.
The possibilities are just endless,
and I’m so grateful
for the work that has been done
to allow me to pass language
and culture on to my son
and to other children
within our community.
We’ve developed a strong,
beautiful, vibrant community as well,
as a result of this shared effort.
So what do we need moving forward?
First of all, we need policy.
We need enacted policy
with attached funding
that will ensure that Indigenous language
is incorporated meaningfully
into education,
both on and off reserve.
On reserve, education is funded
at significantly lower levels
than it is off reserve.
And off reserve,
Indigenous language education
is often neglected,
because people assume
that Indigenous people
are not present in provincial schools,
when actually, around 70 percent
of Indigenous people in Canada today
live off reserve.
Those children have equal right
to access their language and culture.
Beyond policy, we need support.
And that doesn’t just mean
financial support.
We need space where we can
carry out activities,
classes and interaction
with nonindigenous populations as well.
We need support
that looks like people
wanting to learn the language.
We need support where people talk
about why these languages are important.
And to achieve that, we need education.
We need access to immersion
education primarily,
as that is most certainly
the most effective way
to ensure the transmission
of Indigenous languages.
But we also need education
in provincial schools,
we need education
for the nonindigenous populations
so that we can come to a better
mutual understanding
and move forward in a better way together.
I have this quote hanging
in a framed picture on my office wall.
It was a gift from a settler ally student
that I taught a few years ago,
and it reminds me every day
that we can achieve great things
if we work together.
But if we’re going to talk
about reconciliation,
we need to acknowledge
that a reconciliation that does not result
in the survivance and continuation
of Indigenous languages and cultures
is no reconciliation at all.
It is assimilation,
and it shouldn’t be
acceptable to any of us.
But what we can do
is look to the calls to action,
we can look to the United
Nations Declaration
on the Rights of Indigenous People
and we can come to a mutual understanding
that what we have,
in terms of linguistic
and cultural heritage
for Indigenous people in this country,
is worth saving.
Based on that, we can step forward,
together,
to ensure that Indigenous
languages are passed on
beyond 2050, beyond the next generation,
into the next seven generations.
Miigwech. Niawen’kó:wa. Thank you.
(Applause)