Across the globe, Indigenous languages have been going extinct at a rapid pace—the prestigious Harvard International Review notes that “every two weeks an Indigenous language dies.” According to the United Nations, more than half of the world’s Indigenous languages will be gone by the year 2100, and that is a conservative estimate—less rosy calculations suggest 95 percent will be gone by the end of the year. The HIR notes that when Indigenous languages die, so do the cultures and histories contained within them.
There are roughly 70 currently spoken in Canada, down from 450 pre-contact, and many of those are teetering on the brink with barely a handful of fluent speakers remaining.
The reason for the precipitous decline in languages here in Canada and much of the rest of the world can be traced back to the colonial practices of the world-spanning empires during the so-called age of discovery. Here, as in many other parts of the world, Indigenous languages and culture were suppressed, often brutally, as in the case of the residential school system where students were physically abused for speaking their native tongues.
On Manitoulin Island, the Indigenous languages of the Odawa, Potawatomi and Ojibwe (collectively dialects of Anishinaabemowin and known as the Three Fires Confederacy) would be no exception if not for the decades of effort by dedicated individuals and organizations who remain steadfast in their determination to turn the tide. Many of those remarkable individuals hail from Wiikwemkoong.
Wiikwemkoong and the other Island First Nation communities have long been tapped to provide language teachers for Anishnaabemowin programs at educational institutions stretching throughout Three Fires Territory—a territory that spans the largest of any Indigenous peoples. That territory ranges from the prairies in the west, down through Michigan and Wisconsin, all the way to Oklahoma and back up again through southwestern Ontario to Manitoulin.
Women such as Nancy Debassige baa of M’Chigeeng travelled far from their home communities in order to help revitalize Anishinaabemowin in regions where fluent speakers had all but disappeared.
Elizabeth (Liz) Osawamick of Wiikwemkoong is the organizer of one of the largest Indigenous language conferences to be found anywhere on Turtle Island and it would not be unfair to suggest that without the contributions of Wiikemkoong elders and language speakers such as Stanley Peltier, Shirley Williams, former Wiikwemkoong Ogimaa Eugene Manitowabi (and his daughter, current Ogimaa Rachel Manitowabi), Phyliss Williams, Barbara Nolan and Barbara Peltier (to name a few) that conference would not exist.
That is not to denigrate the contributions of such luminaries as Professor Alan Corbiere of M’Chigeeng and the aforementioned Ms. Debassige baa, or the contributions of many of the younger generations who are stepping up. People such as former Ogimaa Duke Peltier, who have taken great efforts to become fluent speakers and Ngwaagan Eshkibok, who has been instrumental in building Anishinaabemowin Gamig, a homelike facility that is aimed at assisting young parents in grounding their babies in the language.
Anong Beam of M’Chigeeng following her father artist Carl Beam’s dream of an Anishinbaabe radio station was realized in the form of Gimaa Radio.
Indigenous languages may be under threat, but thanks to the tireless efforts of many determined individuals the tide can, and is, being turned back.
Communities such as Wiikwemkoong, which are tackling the issue with determination, effort and treasure, deserve a great deal of credit. The loss of the culture and traditions encompassed in Anishinaabemowin would be adding yet another tragedy to a path that has already seen too many.
So, to Wiikwemkoong and all those other communities that have refused to be victims, we say: Gego!
