 BERKELEY,
CA - Tossing stuffed animals in the air might seem to be an activity
conducive to nursery school yet for a pair of language facilitators,
the toys are more than just child’s play, they are a tool for cultural
survival.
With
a table strewn with dolls and other props, this duo from the group Advocates
for Indigenous California Language Survival (AICLS) is working its way
across the continent in the race against time. In visiting various tribes
and reserves, Nancy Richardson-Steele and L. Frank Manriquez attempt to
provide the impetus and teaching techniques to the communities’ elders
to revive dialects that are endangered.
In
California alone there are 50 Aboriginal languages existing but many remain
alive only as long as their older citizens do. Often without a written
history of their language, once these seniors die so will this part of
Native culture. Some of these bands have fewer than 10 speakers, hence
the urgency and why the AICLS formed a decade ago.
While
Richardson-Steele and Manriquez are conversant in several dialects, in
no way can they teach any given community its tongue. Rather, using a
system AICLS has developed called the Master/Apprentice Program (MAP),
fluent speakers, quite often the elders, are paired with non-speaking
residents to prevent the language from being lost.
Instead
of straight memorization of words, MAP encourages the training of new
speakers by immersing them in conversation and activity. This allows the
teaching philosophy and the incorporation of MAP to remain the same even
though languages are different between Indian populations.
"You’re
getting them to understand you and what you’re doing, not (just)
the one word or one object," said Richardson-Steele recently to a
group of two dozen potential teachers of the Cree and Dene Suline languages
at the Blue Quills reserve east of Edmonton, Canada. "You have to
get beyond teaching words towards getting to teach the language through
activities."
One
of the keys in learning a Native language AICLS has discovered is repetition,
especially in the absence of written characters or books. A word needs
to be said 20 times in 20 different situations, or 400 times, before the
student will have it ingrained. Instead of enduring the dullness of rote
memory, the language comes alive with fluid speech, even if it’s
in simple sentences.
Community
teachers are encouraged to develop lesson plans that revolve around daily
routines. That’s why Richardson-Steele and Manriquez bring out the
animals, kitchen cutlery or other objects in what almost becomes a quasi-acting
seminar.
By
using the language in everyday scenarios, words and phrases have context.
Richardson-Steele cited the example of when she visited the Makah tribe
in northwest Washington state. That community’s teachers invigorated
their language by conducting lessons during fishing expeditions and revitalized
the dialect by repeatedly saying the different parts of the fish or the
name of each technique, such as casting the line.
"These
are the details that can be so easily lost because these are activities
or objects that can’t be translated into English or another language,"
said Richardson-Steele.
As
Richardson-Steele has been studying languages for 30 years and has teaching
credentials, there is a sharp contrast in dynamics between her and Manriquez
who represents the opposite end of the learning curve. Barely a high school
graduate, Manriquez, also an original board member of AICLS, suffers from
dyslexia.
Manriquez
however, brings this invisible disability to light to show that the learning
of languages does not have to be restricted to those who are book smart.
Rather, working to increase cultural awareness ultimately leads to improved
self and community esteem.
"The
worst thing that could happen in (past) Indian society was to be ostracized
and not knowing language is a (form of) ostracizing and then you can’t
be yourself," said Manriquez.
Once
the master and apprentice break off into one-on-one or small group sessions,
AICLS has created a series of steps for improved learning conditions,
the first of which is to leave English behind. By stressing active learning,
the group has determined that it is preferable to struggle in an Aboriginal
language, even if body movements and gestures are used, than to fall back
on the crutch of using a non-Native tongue.
Also
of importance is the need to listen and speak rather than to write and
be concerned about grammar. When Richardson-Steele was addressing her
audience she said that students of Aboriginal languages should be concentrating
on being able to speak to somebody rather than having the skills to write
a letter. Richardson-Steele asked what phonetics system would be used
to symbolize an Indian dialect? English?
"When
you have a child learning a language, you don’t give them a pen and
tell them how to write," she said.
To
learn a language as an adult requires a humility and patience to accept
starting again. Richardson-Steele and Manriquez state that frustration
is natural and the process requires patience but eventually after two
or three months, the student will break out on their own.
"It
asks us to step out of ourselves a little bit in order to accomplish a
goal," Manriquez said about some of the awkwardness and shyness.
Yet,
adding to the frustration for some Aboriginals is a troubled history associated
with speaking an Indian language. In their travels, some of the constants
these facilitators have witnessed are tears and anger, usually at the
start of any three-day conference.
"No
matter where we went, it happened and people were crying and getting angry,"
Richardson-Steele said about what she now calls the Friday nights grief-and-growl
sessions.
When
AICLS visited the Blue Quills, it was the first time they had conducted
a seminar in Canada. Richardson-Steele stated the direness of language
survival is not as severe as elsewhere but estimates that without remedying
the situation, the local Dene dialect would be extinct in two generations.
She
should know. Among her own Karuk people, there were a mere 11 who could
speak the tribe’s language. But due to the past decade of master-apprentice
training, there are 18 new speakers. These are not huge numbers, but a
growth that represents the optimism for Native languages.
"We
do more than just survive because we’re moving into the future,"
Manriquez said about other programs offered at AICLS. "It isn’t
that desperate because it’s mixed with hope."
To
contact the Advocates for Indigenous California Language Survival, write
AICLS, 1215 66th St. Berkeley, CA 94702 or call (510) 655-8770.
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