Voices from the past
The lack of government funding hampers efforts to revitalize the Mohawk language
Students in the Onkwawenna Kentyohkwa Language Centre practicing Mohawk. (Bambang Sadewo/First Stories)
Akwiratekha Martin learned Mohawk as a child, but didn’t speak much of it outside class.
It was Martin’s grandmother – the only one in the family who spoke fluent Mohawk at the time – who motivated him to study his ancestral language as a young adult.
“My grandmother made me promise to do it,” he said. “It’s always in us to want to speak our language. Everybody still wants to, but there’s not much opportunity. It’s our language, so why not speak it? It’s our identity.”
After finishing the Mohawk language program in 2002, Martin was asked to teach at Kahnawake cultural centre in Quebec. He took the offer despite some reservation.
“I knew that there were gaps missing in my language,” he said. “The tools that helped me were the elders themselves. They’re a walking dictionary.”
Over the years, Martin saw people quit language studies for various reasons. He said he understands why people can’t afford to work and learn the language at the same time, which is why he believes the government should do more to address the problem.
“They took it away from us. They completely almost killed it. I think it’s their responsibility to dish out just as much as money as (they do with) English or French languages. If it dies, it’s part of their fault because they didn’t fund it that much,” Martin said.
It’s a sentiment shared by his colleague at the Kahnawake Survival School.
“The school is to strengthen our identity and who we are … and not let us be swallowed up by the world outside,” said Tewenhni'tatshon Delisle, who has been an educator for more than 40 years.
Yet, Delisle says language teachers are overworked because the school doesn’t have the funding to hire more staff.
An Ontario school feeling the pinch, too
A similar story can be found in a First Nations language immersion school in Hagersville, Ont.
Decades after it was founded, the Kawenni-io/Gaweni-yo immersion school, located on the Six Nations of the Grand River Territory in southern Ontario, is still searching for a permanent facility to call its own.
Linda Staats, the school’s principal, said they’ve been looking for 30 years.
“Now we’re in this arena which is decent and better than portable,” she said. “We still don’t have running water in our classroom. But we’re grateful that we got what we got.”
The private school, which provides 100 per cent teaching instruction in Cayuga and Mohawk languages for kindergarten to Grade 6 students, and 50 per cent of English for Grades 7 and 8, moved to the second level of the Iroquois Lacrosse Arena in 2008 – thanks to the generosity of a local entrepreneur.
Its location is far from ideal, but it’s an improvement over the previous facility.
She said the school’s vision to promote and develop fluent language speakers in the community makes it “a prime example” of what the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s report is about.
The commission’s final report – released in 2015 – laid out 94 policy recommendations for all levels of governments, including the call to develop an Indigenous Languages Act to help the goal of preserving, protecting, and revitalizing First Nations, Metis, and Inuit languages.
“It all sounds good on paper, it sounds good in rhetoric. But unless we have fluent speakers, it’s going to be too late,“ Staats said.
While the legislation shouldn’t be just about funding, she said the government hasn’t even attempted to provide the facilities that the language immersion school needs to provide a better learning environment for students.
Her hope is for the children to have a school with running water, kitchen facilities, and an easily-accessible playground area. She also wishes for better compensation for teachers.
“Our school teachers are really underpaid. They’re here because they have a commitment to the language,” Staats added.
A pioneer in Ontario
The lack of Ontario provincial government’s financial support didn’t stop Brian Maracle and wife Audrey Maracle from setting up Onkwawenna Kentyohkwa in Oshweken, Ont., in 1998.
The society-based organization started teaching Mohawk language to community members in 1999 and now offers a full-time immersion program.
“There wasn’t such a program before for adults to do it. It worked pretty well. We just kept at it,” said Maracle, making a point that none of its half a million dollar annual budget comes from the government.
On what the government should do to save Indigenous languages from disappearing, he believes more emphasis should be placed on creating speakers, not just archiving materials.
“Having videotapes sitting on the shelves isn’t going to save it,” he said.
Ultimately, Maracle wants to see Mohawk become the language of work, entertainment, social affairs, in the home and in the community.
”(Like) the way it used to be.”
