Let’s say you have a deep love of learning.
Imagine a way to learn history, spirituality, concepts, cultural cosmology and development, civic relationship dynamics, symbolism and art, philosophy, and unique ways of perceiving the world we share at the same time.
Our world has a very effective way to do this, and we engage with it every day, regardless of background, family roots and origins, belief, or practice.
This iridescent gem across stellar generations is called language.
Language does not merely serve as a tool of communication, but as a vessel containing philosophies and distinct perspectives on the world, others, and ourselves.
For instance, English (which a majority of us speak daily) is a sound of synthesis and reinvention. It is spoken across the globe and continues to be shaped by encounters with other cultures. The term “compassion” is shaped by the Latin term compati, meaning to suffer through and with. It positions compassion as not merely recognizing another’s challenges, but being emotionally responsive to another in such times. Reverence, from reverentia, conveys a deep awe or respect.
The French term dépaysement (containing pays, meaning a country or region) describes the feeling of being removed from one’s familiar home, environment, culture, or habits, blending together disorientation, unfamiliarity, excitement, or a profound change in perspective.
Whether we know, are presently learning, or utilize English, French, Spanish, Punjabi, or Mandarin every day, we carry entire worlds of memory in our minds, hearts, and spirits.
Anishinaabemowin: Exploring Inner (and Outer) Worlds of Meaning
Anishinaabemowin has a lineage including Proto-Algic, the Algic language family, Proto-Algonquian, the Algonquian language family, Central Algonquian, and (most immediately) our dialect region—Border Lakes Anishinaabemowin.
At times used interchangeably, it is sometimes referred to as Ojibwemowin or the Ojibwe language.
It is the sound of memory, celebration, energy, process, laughter, reverence, and hope.
It is the sound of cultural (and identity) survival for many—a linguistic link tethering the past to the future as learners walk the taught tightrope while making their way through the world.
In a very real way, Anishinaabemowin is like a table. On the table, there are many things. A unique way of seeing the world. Avenues of reverence and responsibility. Activation of a majority of our spiritual ceremonies where the language is crucial. Unspoken roles of family. They all rest upon the table—in fact, the table is required to hold them up. If the table falls, what happens to each thing that sits upon it? This is precisely why the residential school imposition hit our families so hard. Considering how the culture and language are situated, if someone targets the language, they target everything.
Those of us who are committed to language revitalization go one step further.
“What if the table is made strong again?”
And further.
“What if we grow the table? What more can we create, conjure, and hold up in support?”
A Polysynthetic Treasure
Being a very committed fan and learner of Hellenistic Greek (which contains a massive and complex depth), I find that Anishinaabemowin shares its mile-deep meaning nature. A polysynthetic language, Anishinaabemowin compresses a huge number of meaning units (such as morphemes) into single words to ensure one word can express an extraordinarily complex idea, deeply meaningful concept, or entire sentence.
The polysynthetic nature of Anishinaabemowin assists in the creation of new words. This is not only beautiful, but crucial in ensuring the language remains relevant by reflecting the world we live in today rather than being confined to reflecting a world relegated to the past. The creation of new vocabulary, such as computer (mazinaabikiwebinigan), electric guitar (basweweyaabiigibichigan), and a college or university (gabe-gikendaasoowigamig), ensures its survival.
Division Is Distraction
Some of the most beautiful features of the language are its variations (sound), dialects (sentence structure), and the uniqueness tied to place. Communities near fast-flowing rivers or rapids express language in a melodic and musical intonation, whereas those near still lakes have a much more straightforward rhythm. In this way, the language is shaped by the water and the land (through which the water flows). Perhaps appreciation for different sounds and delivery might be better met with appreciation rather than division (“the dialect wars”).
Considering a Day of Reconciliation
When the Fort Frances Times asked me to write a column focusing on Anishinaabemowin, I spent two weeks brainstorming, strolling down memory lane, and reflecting on what approach would be equally meaningful and encouraging to those who are interested in learning more.
Emerging from the waters of memory, I recalled the question I first asked a language technician before I began to learn long ago.
“How did you begin to learn? What road did you follow to build your capacity?”
In recent years, this question has been asked of me by many who have become learners, speakers, educators, and students of my own.
“How did you begin to learn?”
Perhaps this is the thread that sews potential to promise.
Understanding someone’s path and relationship to the language can make it seem possible for another.
In Part Two of this week’s exploration of Anishinaabemowin, I will share one story from one life, my own, and the ongoing road of learning, involvement, and relationship with our beautiful language.
I wanted to take the time and care to be informative and helpful while being sure the focus remains on the language – not any one person who carries it.
This is only one story, but sometimes one story is all that’s needed to light an inexhaustible fire in another.
