Language camp keeps Ojibwe culture alive (fwd)

[phil cash cash]

Language camp keeps Ojibwe culture alive

© Indian Country Today August 01, 2007.
by: The Associated Press
http://www.indiancountry.com/content.cfm?id=1096415477

	[AP Photo/The Daily Press, Karen Hollish -- Kathleen ''Sis'' Wiggins of
Odanah, Wis., (far right) demonstrated her brain tanning technique for deer
hides during the Ojibwe Language Camp on the Red Cliff Indian Reservation in
Wisconsin, July 12. She was helped by her son, Mitchell Crowe Jr. of
Ashland, Wis., and Lisa Brown of Eau Claire, Wis., who traveled to the
Raspberry Bay Campground for four days of learning about Ojibwe language
and culture.]

By Karen Hollish -- The Daily Press, Ashland

RED CLIFF, Wis. (AP) - To a virgin nose, the scents wafting up from buckets
of brain juice are overpowering.

But to Kathleen ''Sis'' Wiggins of Odanah - who has long practiced tanning
deer hides with deer brains - inhaling the pungent smell represents another
step in strengthening her Ojibwe culture.

''The fact that you're keeping tradition alive, you can't beat that,''' said
Wiggins, demonstrating her brain tanning technique at Red Cliff's Raspberry
Bay Campground.

Wiggins joined others for the four-day Ojibwe Language Camp, an annual event
sponsored by the Red Cliff Tribal Council and the University of
Wisconsin-Stevens Point Office of Multicultural Affairs. Campers traveled
to Red Cliff from the St. Croix, Bad River and Lac Courte Oreilles
reservations and beyond to pass along and absorb Ojibwe traditions.

Under Raspberry Bay's lakeside canopy of reaching red pines, far removed
from many of modern technology's distractions, they organized loosely into
small learning groups, splintered off for impromptu one-on-one lessons and
reconvened as a whole to hear elders' stories.

Camp coordinator Andy Gokee, a former Red Cliff resident who now handles
outreach for the UWSP Native American Center, explained why both Ojibwe
language lessons and traditional hands-on skills are taught at the camp.

It just doesn't work to teach the Ojibwe language in a sterile classroom, he
said.

''Language and the culture - you can't separate the two; you need both,''
Gokee said. ''One kind of interprets another; the language gives you
insight into how the Indian mind perceives things.''

Today's dearth of Ojibwe language speakers can be traced to past U.S.
government and church-related dictums, which forbade Native people to speak
their languages, Gokee said. Locally, some elders who attended the St.
Mary's Catholic School in Odanah - including a relative of Gokee - still
remember losing their Native tongue as children, when the nuns ordered them
to speak English only.

The need to revive and strengthen knowledge of the Ojibwe language is
especially acute today, as the remaining fluent speakers are aging, Gokee
said.

''It's a critical point in time now. ... The younger generation, are they
going to be able to do it? Our ceremonies won't work in English,'' Gokee
said. ''If we don't have our language, we don't have our ceremonies. And if
we don't have them, we won't be Ojibwe anymore; we won't be Anishinabe
anymore. We will lack that fundamental identity that defines us as
Ojibwe.''

While it's a critical point in time, it's also a time of opportunity for
language growth, Gokee said. Some area children have been attending an
Ojibwe language-immersion charter school in Hayward, and many advanced
Ojibwe learners are reaching child-bearing age and will speak Ojibwe to
their children soon, he said.

As for the camp, the complicated Ojibwe language ''can't be taught in a
week,'' Gokee acknowledged - but a week is enough time to ignite an
interest.

An interest appeared to spark for 9-year-old Pearl Crowe of Ashland. When
first asked about her Ojibwe language ability, she sheepishly said she only
knows ''boozhoo'' and ''migwetch'' - ''hello'' and ''thank you,''
respectively. But Crowe's eyes lit up when she described how her elders had
been teaching the kid campers vocabulary through song.

''They were singing; they started you off with two songs, and if you could
handle it, you go to three,'' she said.

The songs - which included an Ojibwe language version of ''Itsy Bitsy
Spider'' and a ditty about numbers - also excited 11-year-old Angie
Matrious, of Lake Lena, Minn.

She was honing her introductory speaking, if not spelling, abilities at the
camp.

''Ashi beshig,'' she fired back, when asked her age.

But could she spell that?

''No!'' Matrious said just as quickly, though after prodding she gave it a
good shot.

At a feast later that night, fluent Ojibwe speaker Brian Goodwin said
Matrious' answer about her age was technically correct, but still at a
''baby talk'' level. A more experienced Ojibwe speaker, Goodwin said,
would've likely answered ''beboonigizyaan ashi-beshig,'' a more thorough
explanation which can be roughly translated to ''I am 11 winters old.''

Building up the tribe's number of functional Ojibwe speakers is a big
undertaking, Gokee said, but he thinks activities like the camp in Red
Cliff are helping.

Kids ran from campsite to campsite, digging up holes in the dirt, pushing
each other on a tree swing and watching the adults work on moccasins and
make dinner. During the course of the week, Gokee will sometimes overhear
the little ones speaking to each other in limited doses of Ojibwe - a
heartening sign, he said.

''You see flashes of it; not as consistently as you hope, but you see
flashes of it,'' he said. ''That's a good sign.''