FYI: NEW YORK TIMES article RE: indigenous language preservation (Passamaquoddy)

[sm167]

Courtesy of Diana Scalera (from the 15 November NEW YORK TIMES)
- Diana comments:

"[T]this article bashes linguists but has information about some creative
community work to save an indigenous language."

Religion Journal: One Man's Goal: For a Tribe to Pray in Its Own Language

November 15, 2003
 By KATIE ZEZIMA





BANGOR, Me. - The automated voice is flat and monotonous,
but Allen Sockabasin says he hears the words and prayers of
his ancestors through the speakers of the Macintosh
computer on his desk.

Mr. Sockabasin, a member of the Passamaquoddy Indian tribe,
has spent more than a decade trying to save its language.
Though the tribe has been Roman Catholic since Jesuit
missionaries from France arrived in northern Maine 400
years ago, few of its members today know how to pray in
their native language.

In fact, fewer than 600 people in the Passamaquoddys'
indigenous land - eastern Maine and the adjacent region of
Canada - now speak Passamaquoddy or Maliseet, a dialect.
And of those who do, fewer still can pray in the language,
in part because most prayers were taught their ancestors in
either Latin or English, by the Jesuits and the Anglicans
who followed.

The 58-year-old Mr. Sockabasin is trying to change all
that. Having previously recorded his translations of songs
and poems from English to Passamaquoddy (pronounced
pass-eh-meh-KWAD-ee), he is now translating the rosary and
recording it on compact discs that he plans to distribute
to schools and churches in eastern Maine and the adjoining
Canadian province, New Brunswick. The project is the first
in which the prayers have been translated into the native
language, professionally recorded (in a local studio) and
distributed.

"It's really sad when a young person tells you he doesn't
know how to pray," Mr. Sockabasin, the H.I.V. coordinator
for an Indian health clinic, said in an interview at his
office here. "It's sad when a native speaker feels like he
doesn't know how to pray. In Indian country, its all made
up as you go along."

Most of those who still speak Passamaquoddy at all are
aging, now over 50. Some tribal members say the language is
dying out because many parents simply want their children
to learn English so that they can pursue education and
better jobs, and so leave rural Maine.

Tribal elders tried to preserve Passamaquoddy orally
through the years, but English often seeped in, tainting
it. Linguists have studied the language since the 1970's,
but members of the tribe say they have not benefited from
the research, which has for the most part been scholarly
and, they say, not focused on helping Indian communities.


So they have started their own programs, at schools and
community centers. The prayer project, however, is the most
moving, they say.

One tribal member, Brenda Commander, who for three years
has run a language program in the Indian community of
Houlton, Me., said she first heard a prayer in
Passamaquoddy last year, at a funeral. The words took on a
different meaning. "I just can't even describe it," Ms.
Commander said. "I felt inspired. It made me really
emotional."

Mr. Sockabasin lives in another Indian community, Pleasant
Point, on the Bay of Fundy about 25 miles from the Canadian
border. The Rev. Frank Morin, the pastor of St. Ann's
parish there, hopes parents will use Mr. Sockabasin's disc
to teach children both culture and religion. Father Morin
says the Passamaquoddy prayers are audible reminders of
parents and grandparents who spoke the language.

Francis Nicholas, 75, a deacon at St. Ann's, says
parishioners want to worship in Passamaquoddy.

"Everybody wants to be baptized," Mr. Nicholas said.
"Everybody wants to be taken to the church when they die
and be buried by a priest. One should be able to pray in
their own language, I think, and you've got to pass that on
to the younger generation."

Mr. Sockabasin, who grew up speaking Passamaquoddy, decided
in the late 1980's to translate songs and poems, and record
the results. He has now recorded seven discs of translated
poems, prayers and songs, including "Amazing Grace." He
says he pays for his projects with donations and grants;
the discs are free.

Mr. Sockabasin works with the aid of a computer program
that reads back written text. He types letters that he
believes will translate orally to Passamaquoddy. Then, when
the computer speaks them back to him, he tinkers with those
that sound awry to his ear, and tries again. Once a rough
translation is complete, he takes the printed word, reads
it aloud and adds correct inflections. Once an accurate
translation is complete, he records it.

in the late 1980's to translate songs and poems, and record
the results. He has now recorded seven discs of translated
poems, prayers and songs, including "Amazing Grace." He
says he pays for his projects with donations and grants;
the discs are free.

Mr. Sockabasin works with the aid of a computer program
that reads back written text. He types letters that he
believes will translate orally to Passamaquoddy. Then, when
the computer speaks them back to him, he tinkers with those
that sound awry to his ear, and tries again. Once a rough
translation is complete, he takes the printed word, reads
it aloud and adds correct inflections. Once an accurate
translation is complete, he records it.

He also teaches the language to anyone who is interested in
learning it. "If I can teach a computer how to sound out a
Passamaquoddy word," he said, "I certainly can teach native
children how to sound the words."

Still, translating Passamaquoddy is complicated, because
unlike English, it groups sets of ideas into single words.
Dr. Robert Leavitt, professor of education at the
University of New Brunswick and director of its
Mi'kmaq-Maliseet Institute, tells of the difficulty
encountered by a group of linguists who tried to translate
"thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory" into
Passamaquoddy. The word they first used, Dr. Leavitt said,
made it "sound like God had been working out at the gym,"
conveying a vision of physical strength rather than
authoritative power.

But Mr. Sockabasin knows the hurdles well: it was still the
mid-1990's when he started work on the rosary.

His hope is that through his work, young people will find
more meaning in the prayers they say each week in church.

"I know when I say `my creator' in my language, there is no
other definition," Mr. Sockabasin said. "It's who made me."