The language of the Kahnawà:ke community — Kanien'kéha — is in danger of disappearing. And, pandemic or not, the Kanien'kehá:ka (Mohawk) community is doing everything to ensure its survival.
Talking to Steve Bonspiel, Mohawk editor of the English-language newspaper The Eastern Door in Kahnawà:ke, you quickly understand that the language situation in his community is not improving. On the contrary, the Kanien'kéha is rather on the verge of extinction. Just like a large portion of the other 70 Indigenous languages spoken in Canada, two-thirds to be exact. Since 1992, The Eastern Door newspaper has served the community in English, and sometimes in Kanien'kéha. But the scarcity of people who still speak this language and its expensive translation complicate the task.
“In the world, there are about 3,500 people who speak Kanien'kéha. Here, in Kahnawà:ke, only a fraction of people understand it well: we are talking about less than 10% of the inhabitants, and things are not getting better,” he said in an interview.
Seeing the situation worryingly deteriorate, Steve and his team made the decision to “get involved.” They are now preparing to devote one page per week to their publication, available on paper and On line, to everyday words and conversations in Kanien'kéha. “The idea is that by offering these lessons, readers appropriate them and integrating them into their lives, either by collecting them or by printing them. We know that the trick to learning a language is immersion.”
Si Fundraising linked to this initiative is a success — the objective is to raise $30,000 —, the newspaper will be able to print the lessons until the end of the year, but the goal is obviously that they continue beyond this date.
While this kind of immersive activity is a step toward revitalizing his language, Steve is keenly aware that a huge amount of catching up is needed. “The ravages caused by residential schools, the Sixties Scoop, and, overall, colonialism, are still being felt today. We were punished for speaking our language, and we were told that, to succeed in life, we had to speak English or French,” he recalls.
The Kahnawà:ke reserve and its entrepreneurs are already promoting the language of the Kanien'kehá:ka community in a variety of ways, whether through stop signs, which have been translated — Testan —, or simply by displaying translated labels in businesses. However, Steve believes that more initiatives like constant vocabulary learning are needed to ensure its sustainability.
The Kanien'kéha:ka are holding on
Despite the omnipresence of signs and symbols in the Kanien'kéha language throughout the territory of Kahnawà:ke, the organizations of the reserve are asking for more. “The community should have access to a live radio or TV program in their language,” suggests Lisa Phillips, executive director of Kanien'kehá:ka Onkwawén:na Raotitióhkwa Language and Cultural Center (KORO LCC). Most, if not all, of the programs broadcast by local stations CKER-FM and CKER-TV are in English.
However, there are exceptions. In addition to a weekly program on local radio, the center produces a puppet television program for children in Kanien'kéha: Tóta tánon ohkwá:ri. “It's an effective way to bring toddlers together with their parents and grandparents, and for them to all learn together,” explains the project's Mohawk artistic director, Marion Delalonde. On the one hand, children are captivated by the funny and colorful scenes, on the other hand, the topics addressed appeal to a much larger audience.
To make viewers aware of the challenges facing the Aboriginal reserve, the episodes focus on topics such as mental health, addiction, diabetes, and obesity. This year, Marion and her team called on an environmental technician to participate in the design of a character who knows a lot about climate justice. “Not only do we make sure to offer content that is relevant to local people, but we also ask them to send us ideas that could be the subject of an episode, and sometimes even to participate as a puppeteer,” says Marion delighted. insisting on the unifying nature of the show.
Learning a language is also a way for some people to come together, share, and learn from each other. Also at KORLCC, cultural development officer Karonhiióstha Shea Sky, a cultural development officer, is currently developing a mentoring program where someone from the community who is proficient in the traditional language would be paired with an apprentice.
Karonhiióstha Shea Sky participated in the KORLCC Kanien'kéha Immersion Program. Learning her language allowed her to meet people she would probably not have met otherwise, she tells us. With her mentoring project, she hopes to strengthen these types of relationships between the different generations of her community and, ultimately, contribute to the resurgence of a proud Aboriginal identity. The criminology graduate also believes that these programs prevent several social problems found on Aboriginal reserves.
“Learning Kanien'kéha allowed me to revisit the ways of seeing and thinking of my ancestors. It goes far beyond simple word-for-word translation,” she adds. For example, when a Mohawk says Akhwá:tsire, he is talking about his family, but literally, it means “my fire.”
Beyond initiatives
Community-based efforts keep Indigenous languages alive. But what can governments do? Last fall, the Canadian government adopted the Bill C-91, which aims to ensure the sustainability of indigenous languages. To support this resolution, the Office of the Commissioner of Indigenous Languages was created. The federal government has also allocated $333.7 million over five years for the conservation of more than 70 languages spoken by First Nations, Inuit and Métis peoples in Canada.
So why do initiatives like The Eastern Door depend on fundraisers?
When asked about this, the office of Marc Miller, Minister of Indigenous Services, did not want to grant us an interview. At the time of publishing these lines, we also had not received answers to the questions we sent him by email.
At the provincial level, initiatives from the Quebec Aboriginal community can obtain some funding under the Aboriginal One-Time Projects program, recalls the press secretary of Sylvie D'Amours, the minister responsible for Aboriginal Affairs. She notes that initiatives carried out by non-profit organizations may be eligible for the program.
“The problem with the current model is that the funds are paid after a project is submitted and not through core funding,” says Lisa Phillips of KORLCC. “First of all, it requires a lot of preparation time, but it also requires patience. And while the amount seems impressive, it's all Canadian reserves that want their share. It's very competitive,” she says.
Despite the funding granted to the preservation of indigenous languages, the co-spokesperson for Québec Solidaire (QS) Manon Massé believes that the Coalition Avenir Québec (CAQ) is disconnected as to how to do it.
“The actions of the CAQ are not consistent with the United Nations statement, nor that of Bill C-91,” she said, denouncing the “colonial relationship” that the leader of the François Legault party maintains with indigenous peoples — whether through his approval of the Canadian system for the protection of indigenous children, considered ineffective and harmful, by the injunction of the CAQ issued to the demonstrators of the blockade of Saint-Lambert in support of the barricades erected on oil extraction sites in Wet'suwet'en, by his financing of the forest industry and, above all, by its absence at a meeting between Quebec and the First Nations Nations last fall (Ms. D'Amours represented the government on this occasion).
Questioned on this subject, Mr. Legault's office replied that it was committed to responding to calls for action and justice since the reports of the Viens and ENFFADA commissions were submitted. “The Government of Quebec has adopted an action plan for the social and cultural development of First Nations and Inuit, in force until 2022, which includes a component that aims to promote Indigenous languages. Several departments have implemented various measures in the plan that aim to promote Aboriginal languages. The work is continuing,” said the Prime Minister's press secretary, Ewan Sauvé.
Alisha Tukkiapik, a member of the National Aboriginal Commission of Quebec Solidaire — alongside Xavier Watso and Goulemine Cadoret — wants to say that “this is only the beginning” and that there is “work to do”. Her language, Inuktitut, is still not recognized as the founding language of Nunavut, the territory where she comes from, she illustrates. Its survival therefore depends, as almost everywhere else, solely on the will of its community. Alisha believes that communities already have solutions to maintain their languages. “He just needs to listen to us,” she says of her government.
In the meantime, the success of initiatives like that of The Eastern Door depends on the public. “We would obviously like to receive funding,” says Steve, noting that a member of his team is working on it. “But to date, this project is based solely on the help received from fundraising.”
“Every small contribution counts,” he recalls. We won't do it alone.”