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<b>Fading Indian Languages Carry a Powerful Message <br>
</b>By <font color="#0000FF"><u>AGUSTIN GURZA<br>
<br>
<br>
</u></font>To many Native Americans, language is a gift from God. They
believe it is bestowed on the people by their Maker, like the ability to
breathe or to think. To them, so sacred is the genesis of speech that
they include it in their creation stories. <br>
Language is what makes people who they are, says Ofelia Zepeda, professor
of linguistics at the University of Arizona, and a member of the Tohono
O'odham, or desert people, a Southwestern tribe formerly known as the
Papago. <br>
But just as language is born, so can it die. That's what is so sad about
the once-thriving languages of Native American peoples, says Zepeda, an
expert on endangered Indian languages. From Alaska to the Mexican border,
from Hawaii to the Canadian frontier, Indian tongues are facing imminent
extinction. <br>
In some smaller tribes, only a handful of elders can still communicate in
the language of their ancestors. When their generation dies, their
language, their worldview and their way of life will also disappear. One
expert predicts that more than 175 distinct tongues will become extinct
by 2060. <br>
Recently, language loss has been more gradual and tribes were unsure how
to stop it. "We knew it was happening, but to tell the world was
another thing," says Zepeda, 46. "It's a sad thing to tell them
now." <br>
I met Zepeda last week in San Francisco at the 25th annual conference of
the California Assn. for Bilingual Education. In a gentle, almost
melancholy tone, she talked about belated efforts to revive moribund
Indian languages. <br>
I had been invited to address the conference the night before, following
presentations to six schools whose bilingual programs earned the
association's Seal of Excellence. Washington Elementary in Santa Ana was
the only Southern California school among those honored. <br>
I thought bilingual educators themselves would be an endangered species
by now, but I was wrong. <br>
The conference drew more than 7,000 teachers, principals and parents who
rallied around a theme that seems quixotic in our state today:
"Bi-literacy for all." After a demoralizing blow from political
efforts to destroy bilingual education, true believers have started to
recoup their confidence. <br>
I couldn't help but compare the drive to defend bilingual programs with
the lonely work of Zepeda and others to rescue dying languages. Both
causes require hard, uphill battles. Ironically, it was the birth of
bilingual education a generation ago that sparked many Indians to focus
on saving their own native tongues. <br>
Now it's the story of Native American languages that gives us a powerful
reminder of what's at stake in the debate over bilingual education.
<br>
In a previous column, I suggested that this country's historic hostility
toward any language other than English is oppressive and colonial. Some
readers--and a talk show host or two--ridiculed my analysis. But at the
time, even I was unaware of the intensity of the U.S. campaign to
obliterate Indian tongues, a linguistic war documented by The Times as
part of a series in January on how language shapes our hearts and minds.
<br>
In 1868, for example, a federal commission on Indian affairs concluded
that much of the nation's troubles could be traced to the proliferation
of native languages: "Their barbarous dialect should be blotted out
and the English language substituted." <br>
Sound familiar? The American war against Indian languages left a shameful
intellectual legacy, for which the government has barely begun to make
amends. In 1990, Congress passed the Native American Languages Act,
promising to protect the nation's unique languages and cultures. As a
matter of policy, the law encourages the use of Indian languages in
public schools as a way to enhance student performance. But wait a
minute, Washington! I don't think that's legal here in California. <br>
To be fair, global commerce and communications are threatening languages
all across the globe in an era when English has become the language of
success. You can't fight the future. <br>
But somehow, Zepeda still has hope. Many tribes are working to rekindle
their languages. Native Americans in California are among the most
active. But throughout the country, language preservers are videotaping
their grandparents to record their words. They're also writing new
dictionaries, and going to special language camps where the trees and
streams and other natural landmarks are labeled with their Indian names.
<br>
"We should have English, but not at the expense of other
languages," says Zavala. "We can have them both. It's not a
problem at all." <br>
Agustin Gurza's column appears Tuesday. Readers can reach Gurza at (714)
966-7712 or
<font color="#0000FF"><u>agustin.gurza@latimes.com</u></font>. <br>
<br>
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