Minnesota: Learning to speak Ojibwe

[Harold Schiffman]

Learning to speak Ojibwe

Linda LeGarde Grover Budgeteer News
Published Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Linda LeGarde Grover is a professor of American Indian Studies at the
University of Minnesota Duluth, and a member of the Bois Forte Band of
the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe. Grover writes once a month for the
Budgeteer.

Here in Onigamiising, we are in the middle of the great Ojibwe Nation,
which includes northern Minnesota and Wisconsin, upper Michigan, large
areas of Canada north of us and some areas of North Dakota and
Montana. Anishinaabeg have lived here for many, many generations. Up
until my grandparents' generation, everyone spoke our native language,
which is "Ojibwemowin" or "Anishinaabemowin." Although the learning
and use of Ojibwemowin has grown somewhat in the past 20 years, few of
us today are fluent — or even semi-fluent — speakers. We would all
like to be; we admire those who are. It is a beautiful language, and
precious to us. Ojibwe language was nearly destroyed during the Indian
boarding school era. Between 1879 and 1934, official federal Indian
policy was to assimilate native people into larger America through
formal schooling (this endeavor continued, under various policy names,
until 1988).


During that period, many children were removed from their homes and
communities to live at schools where, as an integral part of their
education, the speaking of their native languages was forbidden.
English was the only language allowed at school. Consequences for
speaking Ojibwemowin, as well as any other Indian languages, could at
times be severe. Language is the foundation of communication of
passing on knowledge, in every culture. For American Indian people,
the loss of family, of cultural knowledge and world view, of the
simple comfort of communicating in one's own language, was
devastating. In the heavily structured environment of the boarding
schools, where federal assimilation policy was aggressively carried
out, many lost the use of our languages. It only took a few
generations: For example, although my grandparents both spoke Ojibwe,
their children spoke less, their grandchildren and great grandchildren
less yet. Although Ojibwemowin was all but destroyed, it did not die.

There have always been people who knew how important it was to take
care of the language and to pass it on to others who would do the
same. Here in Onigamiising, the Creator blessed us with the presence
of Amelia LeGarde, one of our elders who recently passed to the next
world. A natural-born teacher, Amelia shared Ojibwemowin with many
people, of all ages, Indian and non-Indian. Generous with her time and
her knowledge, she taught our language both in the schools and
community education, in formal and informal settings. Her teaching was
truly a gift to us: we will remember what we learned, and follow her
example of sharing what we know with others. It is because of people
like Amelia LeGarde that Ojibwemowin still exists. She has left to us
a legacy beyond price.

Ojibwe language is taught at two Duluth schools. Recently, Gayle
Daniel, who is the language teacher, invited me to visit her students
at Grant and Central. They greeted me in Ojibwemowin, and treated me,
their guest, with proper traditional etiquette, listening so sweetly
as I told to them my favorite wintertime Nanaboozhoo story. What good
changes there have been over the years: I could not have imagined such
a thing when I was a girl in school. I have been involved in Indian
education programs for more than 30 years, and have seen educational
trends, theories and methods come and go. In Indian country, we
continue to adapt and survive. If there is one constant for us, it is
that we want our children to do well in school, and to always be proud
of who they are. We want our children to know our history and culture;
we are hopeful that they will have a knowledge of our language.

My oldest grandchild is nearly 14. When he was a preschooler, we were
visiting at my mother and father's house with one of my uncles, an
elderly man whose formal schooling had been at boarding school. My
grandson was playing on the floor in back of uncle Bob's chair,
humming and singing to himself. Uncle Bob asked, "Do you hear that?
What's that he is singing? What are those words?" With some coaxing,
Max came out from back of the chair and sang, bashfully, "Boozhoo,
everybody, and wave at a Niijii!" — part of a song he had learned at
Fond du Lac Head Start. Bob nodded his head. He laughed, softly, with
pleasure: "You couldn't do that when we went to school, couldn't talk
Indian; it wasn't allowed. These days they teach it right there, right
in school."

Uncle Bob held out his large hand toward Max, who placed his own small
hand inside. "Keep it up; you're doing good," Bob said. My grandson
and my uncle shook hands.
Although we were inside the house, I felt the warmth of the sun
shining on us all.

http://www.duluthbudgeteer.com/articles/index.cfm?id=21844

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