The Politics of Aboriginal Language Renewal in Canada:

Tu Tangata, Issue 35, 1 April 1987, Page 41

The Politics of Aboriginal Language Renewal in Canada:

na Augie Fleras: Sociology Department, University of Waterloo, Canada, 1987.

Towards Native Language Immersion Preschools

Little can be added by now in defence of the Kohanga Reo in coping with the crisis underlying the status of ‘te reo Maori’. A similar situation exists in Canada where aboriginal languages also have experienced a steady decline. One of the strategies for renewal has witnessed the introduction of an Ojibwa language immersion preschool in a remote section of Central Ontario. Parallels are evident between the N’ungosuk and Kohanga Reo at least in terms of objectives, structure, and style, if not of impact and implications. Failure of the N’ungosuk to achieve widespread acceptance - in contrast with the success of Kohanga Reo - has left the program open to discussion.

Introduction Debates over language issues strike at the very heart of minority-majority relations in Canada. Energies are continually being expended by minority groups in an effort to protect and promote what they regard as a threatened language base. Nowhere are the politics of language more conspicuous than in the province of Quebec where French has attained clear domination as the channel of communication. In recent years, Canadian Native Indians have also taken steps to establish aboriginal language rights from within a framework of cultural selfdetermination. Different strategies for renewal have been employed, as yet without much success. But a proposal to employ a system of native language immersion preschools - like those of the Kohanga Reo - represents a bold and imaginative venture with considerable promise. This article will examine one such preschool movement known as N’ungosuk, and situate its development within the historical and contemporary context of aboriginal language decline and recovery.

The Problem: The Crisis in Aboriginal Languages

Canadian society is formally described as a multicultural system situated within a framework of FrenchEnglish bilingualism. The federal government, in keeping with this mandate, is bound by law to support non-aboriginal languages. Approximately $448 million per annum is allocated toward the promotion of French, while nearly $4 million is set aside for ‘heritage’ (Vietnamese, Ukrainian, Spanish) language development. In sharp contrast to this, funding for aboriginal language retention with a few exceptions has been virtually non-existent. Nor has the government to date articulated a policy of support for native language education despite pious statements by political leaders to do so. Instead what passes for ‘policy’ in this area has been designed by accident or intent to suppress the use of the vernacular as a viable system of communication.

As a result of these and other assimilative pressures, the aboriginal language situation can best be described as desperate. Of the 53 languages indigenous to Canada, only 3 are of sufficient strength to guarantee survival into the 21st century. Another 8 are moderately endangered, 29 are undergoing rapid deterioration, and the last 8 - with less than 10 speakers each - are endangered to the point of extinction.

Crisis

Furthermore, according to the 1981 census, only 24% of native youth under 14 years of age identified with one of the aboriginal languages as a ‘mother’ tongue. Even in relatively remote areas the crisis is apparent. For example, on Manitoulin Island in the province of Ontario, virtually all adults over the age of 30 have suf-

ficient knowledge of Ojibwa to conduct themselves accordingly at home or in the workplace. But unlike the adult population, Ojibwa children and young adults are losing their primary verbal skills outside of formal contexts. Many not only avoid conversing in Ojibwa with each other, but also are inclined to respond to parents in English. The consequences of relying entirely on the family in perpetuating a ‘mother’ tongue among children are now painfully obvious to concerned parents. Equally evident to some are the shortcomings of conventional strategies in dealing with this problem. Serious doubts exist as to whether the formal inclusion of native languages as a subject for instruction within the school curriculum can reverse the decline. In an attempt to overcome these deficiencies, anxious parents have responded by focusing on the concept of a preschool language immersion environment - based on the assumption that the most influential method of language renewal are those which (a) are conducted within a community-based setting, (b) utilize the native tongue as the language of instruction, and (c) are directed by immersion toward children at the formative stages of language development.

The Solution: N’ungosuk as Ojibwa Language Immersion Preschool

N’ungosuk represents an Ojibwa language immersion preschool which, like the Kohanga Reo, originated in 1982 as a local response to a national crisis. It was established by a small circle of dedicated parents who wanted children to learn Ojibwa as a first language at a stage in life when linguistic skills could be absorbed with relative ease. The initiative itself has never attracted a large number of

Nga Morehu The Survivors, Judith Binney and Gillian Chaplin. Oxford University Press $38.50.

This book is so extensive and draws on so many memories that any review lacks depth. It sets out to tell the life history of eight Maori women of the Ringatu faith. Te Kooti Rikirangi founded this mixture of Old Testament Christianity and mana Maori amidst a stormy opposition from his own people, some Pakeha settlers and the government. In that way the lives of these eight women are similar. They were also shaped by turbulent times within their own hapu and whanau. Again and again the strength and sense of humour came through such as in the words of Heni Sunderland “... we the women ... are the ones who really motivate our men. They wouldn’t like me saying that, but I do think that ...” Tena koe e kui and now we know what you think and I for one believe you. She later goes on to tell of this man that came to their marae to tell

them why they needed to have a paepae formalised. She was flabbergasted to think _ that no-one was going to tell him off for his cheek, so she did. She put her strength to do this

down to the support from her tupuna all around the house. Maaka Jones is another strong character to emerge from Nga Morehu. It’s easier to see now where she gets her commitment from with her work in Wellington with Nga Kaiwhakapumau I Te Reo. A staunch Ringatu childhood mingled with some Presbyterian schooling at Turakina reinforced her Ringatu outlook, as commented other women in the book. Heni Brown, Reremoana Koopu, Hei Ariki Algie, Miria Rua, Putiputi Onekawa and Te Akakura Rua are the other survivors in this book. If you want to be refreshed with wholesome life-stories and also find out what the Ringatu faith is about, Nga Morehu is your book. So much so that Tu Tangata intends asking the publisher’s permission to feature some of those stories in future issues. P. W.

Maori Proverbs, A. E. Brougham and A. W. Reed, revjsed b Sam Karetu, Reed ’ Methuen, $14.95.

Hoa piri ngahuru, taha ke raumati like a friend who is with you in autumn but deserts you in summer, autumn the time of plentiful supplies, summer the time of hard work and scarcity. Those are just a small selection of the diverse whakatauki in this book. Sam Karetu has added new proverbs after a time lapse of 24 years and omitted others because of their obscurity. And that’s the fun of this compact little book, discovering whakatauki by subject headings (in English) and then trying to put them in a context. Despite the explanations given some remain obscure, but then that’s the test of your knowledge of tikanga Maori. I like the suggestion given in the book’s press release that Maori Proverbs will be an aid to both orators and listeners. Well perhaps it will if both manuhiri and tangata whenua have bought their copies. P. W.