MimiCree

Stay tuned, nitotemak

2010-12-06T19:42:00.001-07:00

I can't make any firm promises, but I wanna do an experiment in very basic language curriculum development via this much neglected site.

Stay tuned.

Cree gets Digital

2009-12-28T22:49:00.005-07:00

Recently stumbled upon a on-line resource intended for second-language learners, the Cree-Innu Linguistic Atlas.

Using a Google mash-up of sorts, it's a clickable map that lets you hear how different dialects of Cree handle various phrases in categories ranging from the usual 'Family' and 'Greetings,' to the more conversational 'Physical characteristics' and 'Comforts and discomforts.'

Very cool, and it's nice to see (and hear) someone take a pan-Cree approach to language promotion.

CreeTube?

2009-05-17T02:53:00.004-06:00

One day -- how often that phrase comes out of my mouth when it comes to Cree -- I would love to post a bunch of Cree lessons on YouTube.

For now though, I guess I can just send people to the videos of others.

For example:

Facebook group on Cree language

2008-09-21T13:00:00.003-06:00

Herte's a cool idea I wish I had thought of first but super happy someone beat me to it: a Cree language group on Facebook entitled "Nêhiyawêwin (Cree) Word of the Day." (I still absolutely love Facebook even though some say it's had its day.)

This group is just one way people are trying to mobilize the web as a teaching/learning technology for indigenous language and I am all for it. For our languages to thrive, they must be in play wherever people do.

ay-ay!

Rick

National anthem sung in Cree

2007-03-30T12:39:00.000-06:00

Tansi nitotemak:

A great story by CBC's Connie Walker about Akina Shirt, the young woman who sang the national anthem in Cree at a hockey game broadcast by Hockey Night in Canada.

Coincidentally, her home reserve is Saddle Lake, one of a number of communities who jointly own the Blue Quills First Nations College. Blue Quills is where I took Cree. Maybe Akina will one day be a student there...

ay-ay,
Rick

What Cree Needs Most

2006-12-17T14:50:00.000-07:00

I am such a slacker on this blog.

Lest it be shut down for inactivity, however, I will share in brief an idea -- an ideal -- I have long held about what Cree needs most for it to regain a greater currency.

Two words: fluent rappers. Young people who speak the language effortlessly and artfully to a phat backbeat. (Do people even use the word "phat" anymore? Omigod, that is so 2003!)

But the odds are against it, frankly. And I don't know what's harder: to train someone who speaks the language well in the ways of rap, or to take a great (unilingually-English) rapper and teach them how to speak Cree.

But if our goal is to attract youth to the language, or to encourage those who do speak it to keep speaking, we need to find and develop the Nehiyaw equivalent of Jay-Z. Who knows, though: maybe that talented younger woman or man is already out there, just waiting to be called to the stage, with "Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together for Jay-CREE!!!"

ekosi,
Rick

Calling all Cree in Winnipeg

2006-08-16T19:25:00.000-06:00

My oh my, it has been ages since I posted to this site.

It has been roughly just as long since I have actively engaged anyone else in Cree.

The main reason for this: my relocation, back to Winnipeg, Manitoba, a good 15 hours' drive away.

Oddly enough, there are probably, numerically speaking, far more Cree speakers in this city of roughly 700,000 people than there are back in St. Paul where I was taking my courses. But the fact is, the vast majority of them remain a mystery to me because the lingua franca of this burg is predominantly English. What courses do exist here are more or less piecemeal, the very reason I had to leave Winnipeg to find a decent Cree program in the first place.

But now that I have a partial base in the language, there are things I can do myself. Number one: start my own Cree speakers' group here in Winnipeg. That is, help set up a regular circle of new, intermediate and advanced speakers who seek a supportive environment to develop in Cree.

If that sounds like you, or someone you know, drop me a comment here and I'll be in touch soon!

ay-ay,
Rick

Now, it's your turn: next year's Cree program

2006-05-30T20:09:00.000-06:00

Well, people, this is technically my last week of schooling here at Blue Quills.

I go back and forth on coming back for a second year, and hope to make up my mind soon.

That said, there are many reasons why you should consider taking the program this fall. Below is more info on why the program rocks so much.

If people want still more info, just email cree@bluequills.ca. There are also printed and electronic versions of brochures and posters available for mail-out if you want to help spread the word.

ay-ay,
ekosi pitama,
Rick

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Blue Quills First Nations College
CREE LANGUAGE CERTIFICATE
September 2006 to June 2007 | St. Paul, Alberta

"Rebuilding community through language,
rebuilding language through community"

Program highlights:
- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Students are active in the language — hearing
and speaking Cree — from day one

Language learning through classroom activities
and community-based immersion

Classes five days a week, Sept. through June
(10 months)

Sensitivity to needs of adult second-language learners

Small class sizes with excellent teacher-to-student ratio

On- and off-campus access to elders and speakers
fluent in Cree (‘Y’ dialect )

Emphasis on group participation and
learner/teacher team-building

Students help develop learning tools for program

Multimedia tools enable and enhance
individual study and review

Introduction to writing systems for Cree:
syllabics and roman alphabet (abc’s)

Restoring and revitalizing the voices of our
people in a fun, safe and supportive
learning environment

* * * DEADLINE FOR APPLICATIONS: JUNE 30, 2006 * * *

For more info:

Phone 780-645-4455 or 1-888-645-4455 (toll-free in Western Canada)

Fax 780-645-5215

E-mail cree@bluequills.ca

Web www.bluequills.ca/cree

Aboriginal Studies ... minus the Aboriginal part

2006-05-18T16:51:00.001-06:00

Here's a thought that takes me back to previous spins 'round university. As many of you know, many North American universities offer Aboriginal/Native studies courses; some even have entire faculties devoted to such things. And they're not without their critics. Some accuse these programs and courses of not really being all that Aboriginal, either in design or purpose. It's a fair question: are such fields of study more about than by Aboriginal peoples?

It's also a pretty big question, so let me just offer a partial answer by way of a wee story. A few years back, I took a 7-week intensive Cree language course at the University of Regina in Saskatchewan, which shares a campus with the First Nations University of Canada. It was during that Cree course that FNUC professor Neal Mcleod encouraged me to attend the annual conference of the Canadian Indigenous and Native Studies Association (aka CINSA) in nearby Saskatoon.

And it was something Dr. Mcleod said at one of those CINSA sessions that has stayed with me to this day. In fact, I would now say at least a fair portion of my decision to persist with language-learning dates back to those words of wisdom.

In a room full of mostly non-aboriginal scholars, Mcleod put this fundamental question to all of us: Why is it, that while everyone accepts the validity and necessity of requiring students of the ancient classics of Rome and Athens to understand Latin and Greek, not one school anywhere in North America expects the same of any 'advanced' scholar of Aboriginal studies — i.e., to be fluent in an indigenous language?

Would we take any expert on Japan seriously if they didn't know one single word of Japanese? You know the answer. So why should I care about what 99% of 'Aboriginal' experts have to say?

(And, by the way, isn't saying you're an expert on Aboriginal peoples about as specific as saying you're an expert on 'Europeans?' It's about as useful...)

Just asking, people, just asking. Anyway, when Cree studies is hopefully and finally taught in Cree — nehiyawewinihk — across the country, then I know we'll have gotten somewhere.

ekosi,
Rick

Should we leave language to the linguists?

2006-05-10T12:47:00.000-06:00

In a recent article in 'The Daily Californian,' a linguistics professor was quoted about the study of indigenous languages by experts like himself.

One section in the article pretty much sums up for me how useful the university linguistic approach is to those of us who want to learn how to speak an indigenous language:

A common misconception of linguists is that they can speak many different languages. Garrett's response to this stereotype is that linguists study languages, not speak them, and he himself is still far from becoming fluent in Yurok.
"I'm at that foreign language learning stage where, when someone's talking, you recognize as it goes along that you know each of the pieces but they're going too fast for you to put it all together and you want to say 'No, no, stop, wait! Talk four times as slow!'" Garrett said.

While I would never go so far as to say linguistics has no place whatsoever in promoting and supporting people's desire to actually speak — as oppposed to simply study — their language, I believe we need to get people talking in Cree, not merely about Cree.

At least this professor was candid and honest enough to acknowledge this fact.

Fleshing out that skeleton

2006-04-14T23:46:00.000-06:00

This entry features a great article written about the Cree program at Blue Quills First Nations College in the local newspaper, the St. Paul Journal.

SPJ has graciously donated space in its paper every week for the next year to showcase a 'Cree Word of the Week,' in cooperation with Blue Quills. This is very cool, and they are to be commended for their efforts to be inclusive. I hope you enjoy the article.

Rick

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cree language learning worlds removed from English

RACHEL DE WAAL
Journal Staff
April 11, 2006

In a portable unit on the Blue Quills First Nations College campus, four rectangular tables are arranged in a square, and a spring breeze is blowing through an open door. Six people are seated around the tables, surrounded by Cree syllabics written on papers, the chalkboard and a flip chart standing in one corner of the room.

This is a lab for the Cree Language Certificate program, launched two years ago with the goal of immersing adult students in Cree so they can become fluent in the language.

Student Roberta Stout spent almost 20 years studying both French and Spanish and says Cree is unlike any European language.

“There’s absolutely no comparison,” says Stout. “Cree has a completely different system of sounds, concepts and ways of putting together sentences. Relationships are built into so many words.”

Roberta Stout cuts out cards with Cree syllabics
written on them during a lab for the Cree
Language Certificate Program at Blue Quills.

(photo: Rachel de Waal)

Student Ralph Bodor, who also teaches classes for the Bachelor of Social Work program at Blue Quills, says Cree is dissimilar because it comes from a different worldview.

“To learn Cree really means you have to shift how you think of the world,” says Bodor. “In Cree, words have stories.”

“In any language, words have an embedded story,” says student Rick Harp. “All the stories combined make up a whole worldview.”

The class gives the example of the word for work, “atoske-,” which derives from arrowhead, and represents how people traditionally had to make arrowheads to survive and 'make a living.'

Harp says he is in constant amazement at the sophistication of Cree.

“I’m in awe of the simple elegance of it. It gives me a greater respect for people who speak it,” says Harp. “I feel more connected to who I am as Nehiyaw (Cree) than I probably have before.”

Stout says she is learning Cree so she can pass it on to her children, and also to gain insight into the world of her relatives.

“I think so much of our own health is intricately bound with our identity,” says Stout. “Being able to speak your own language is something special and meaningful that I’ve never experienced.”

Bodor decided to learn Cree so he could better teach his students, many who are fluent in Cree. “I get students writing their papers in Cree sentence structure, but in English,” says Bodor. “I need to learn as much as I can so students are free to use it in class.”

He says a benefit he didn’t expect from taking the program was learning how to both learn and teach differently.

Instructor Leona Makokis, Blue Quills president, says the teaching methodology is quite unique, and unlike most university classes where students compete to get the highest mark. She says students don’t get grades in this program, just a 'pass' or a 'fail.'

“Here, it’s a collective,” says Makokis. “Anybody walking in here would not know who the instructor is and that’s the way it should be. I’m learning too.”

The program includes classes in grammar, syllabics and morphology, runs from September to June, and changes every year to adapt to the needs of students.

Blue Quills has a more inclusive philosophy,” says Harp. “Teachers and students are collaborators. We’re getting the opportunity to contribute, to refine teaching methods.”

He says the program is also different because it doesn’t dissect the language from a mechanical, linguistic perspective. He says some programs try to make Cree into a museum piece, like a skeleton on display. "We want to put flesh back on the bones and make it living," says Harp.

Makokis hopes to see the program become a four-year university degree, eventually moving into a masters then doctorate. Everyone agrees that the current 10-month program is too short and doesn’t give people enough time to completely learn Cree.

Stout points out that the program tries to get people to a place, in writing and speaking, it takes most children seven years to reach. She also says more resources need to be developed to make learning more accessible.

Learning Cree comes with emotional baggage for many people, says student Marilyn Shirt, sharing a story she was told about a residential school student that was hit by a nun for speaking her own language.

"There's trauma around the language and that trauma is transmitted generationally," says Shirt. "People are having to deal with that when wanting to regain their language."

Harp says while the residential school generation had a disincentive to speak, Cree people today have a lack of incentive to learn it. He thinks Cree rap would be amazing because it would be so fast, and would also show youth the language does have a contemporary application.

Several students in the lab agree they feel a sense of urgency to learn Cree, that if they don’t pass it on, the language will die, along with the culture.

“If we don’t learn, there’s a real pressure that that’s it,” says Harp. “This is the homeland for this language.”

Copyright 2006, St. Paul Journal

Eye sea Y

2006-03-21T22:21:00.000-07:00

You know, one of the challenges for many students, one I noted a while back, is the literacy part.

To learn how to write correctly (one should be somewhat careful in saying that for Cree, as not everyone agrees how best to 'transliterate' Cree sounds into ABCs) is to basically be learning another communication system on top of what you're trying to pick up orally/aurally.

In fact, some of us students note that we're really being asked to, in effect, learn four 'languages' this year:

> Cree, the spoken version

> Cree, the written version I
(Standard Roman Orthography, aka SRO, what you are reading right now)

> Cree, the written version II
(Syllabics writing system, to the left there)

> Cree grammar

All this at the same time. It can be a bit much. I mean, I have been told that at least with French and Spanish there is some degree of overlap or relatedness to help ease the pain, but not Cree.

Anyway, my point in bringing this up is to note again how hard it is to break the association we can have between letters we're used to seeing in English and the way we're now supposed to say them in Cree instead. You get a tad frustrated.

Example: how do you think you'd say, seeing it for the first time, the word acimosis? (It means 'puppy.') With a hard 'c' as in 'a-KEE-mo-sis?' Nope.

It's actually pronounced 'ah-TSI-moe-sis' where the 'ts' in -tsi- is said like the back end of the word 'cats.' See? Easy. Test tomorrow.

Well, after a while you're tempted to start thinking, man, Cree is just not made for an English writing system, so deal, dude. Then, one day, when you're not just automatically taking in all the written English everywhere around you, you notice: "Hey, why do they spell knife with that 'k' in front? Wouldn't that be pronounced 'kuh-NI-fay?' And why is 'I' (as in, 'me myself and...') spelled and said that way, but eye isn't pronounced 'ee-YAY ?'

Aye, boy, why is that? Ay caramba.

And then it dawns on you: you just got used to it, and the less you ask why, the more you'll accept that the reason we don't spell "why" as just 'Y' is because English is weird on paper, and so is Cree, and so is the fact you can read this sentence right here and make seamless, immediate sense of it, but when I type hbspvlfrmdskhazedqhqnj you'll scratch your head in great puzzlement.

ekos'anima (that's it exactly),
Rick

Tâniwa niya ? / Where am I?

2006-03-21T22:15:00.000-07:00

I have been incommunicado for so long I'm not sure any of you out there will bother to check ...

Yet, I write not for fame (or even infamy), but to document a process I know will be important to look back on months and years hence. I guess I also hope this helps inspire would-be adult aboriginal language learners to steel up the nerve to make the leap of faith and begin their own journey.

September. Feels like ages ago when I ventured out to this place seemingly in the middle of nowhere . Now, I feel like I am very much somewhere: surrounded by people passionate about the language , about Nehiyawak (Cree people) in general, and about helping students discover and fulfill their potential.

This wellspring of fulfillment includes me: Blue Quills has been a god-send. I am now looking beyond my scheduled 10 months (note to self: change sub-title of blog) and considering a second year of study. There may also be employment opportunities available with the program to boot! They say if you take risks and stick your neck out to follow your passions, that the universe provides, and when stuff like this happens, you gotta wonder.

Write more wîpac (soon).

ekosi,
Rick

Cree Keys

2006-03-01T15:39:00.000-07:00

Check this out. Using a Sharpie, I helped customize an existing computer keyboard, using keys that had their original English characters hand-sanded off by Blue Quills' computer dude, Mr. Bob.

As you can see, the keys now have hand-drawn syllabic characters, so we can compose in Cree using a computer. Of course, this requires that the typist (and anyone wanting to read it) has access to a syllabic font for use in Microsoft Word. You can download this for free at a number of sites.

I think I promised before to include samples here, and I will, but I wanted to show off my latest project right away. Makes you realize how much material support there is out there for some languages, and how such supports are so ubiquitous as to be invisible. Call this my little effort to make Cree a teensy bit more visible.

ekosi,
Rick

To the drawing board

2006-02-13T17:16:00.000-07:00

This picture actually dates back to first term, taken in one of our immersion classes. We all drew and dressed up figures in various colors of clothing (ayiwinisa) made from kids' craft stuff.

Hey, it's not always fun and games learning a language, but sometimes it is. In fact, I think we learn much better that way.

Here you can see how I tried to create a teenager clothed in the hip-hop stylings so fashionable these days. His torso was a bit off, but I never said he was 'Ken'-like.

As I've written here before, I'd like to do a lot more creative stuff of this nature, maybe even extend it to more elaborate learning materials.

I'll try to include more pictures from class more often.

ekosi,
Rick

SITE: Teaching Indigenous Languages

2006-02-12T19:08:00.000-07:00

There is this amazing on-line resource in Arizona I just stumbled onto that I just got to share with you. It's one of those sites that are so stuffed with information you don't know where to start.

Briefly, "Teaching Indigenous Languages" houses the published proceedings from a series of yearly conferences, with the first ever event held at Northern Arizona U in 1994. In fact, the twelfth was held in Victoria, BC, in June 2005. (The 2006 conference is scheduled for May 18-21, 2006, in Buffalo, NY.) It also has links to a variety of books, articles, and columns. I could be gorging for weeks!

If you're thinking of starting or revisiting your indigenous language instructional program, you'd do well to see what this site has to offer.

ekosi,
Rick

Just picture this

2006-02-12T18:41:00.000-07:00

As part of my quest to locate adaptable materials from other languages, I often turn to children's books. Such books usually employ fairly simple grammar forms, and basic scenarios, which is perfect for my needs. However, useful as it is to adapt them by covering up the text and writing the Cree equivalents, it gets a tad tedious.

Recently, though, I was reminded of an idea from one of our textbooks, How to Keep Your Language Alive: A Commonsense Approach to One-On-One Language Learning. Its solution removes the obstacle of another language altogether: caption-less picture books. That is, no words in any language whatsoever.

Now, word-free books are not exactly prevalent (if you know of some, tell me!), but one I just got that is chock full of different activities is The Snowman by Raymond Briggs. (First published in 1978, it's now a big merchandising hit as an animated cartoon in Britain!) It's the story of a boy and his snowman ('piponâpew / misponâpew' in Cree) who eat, dress up, play, eat, fly, etc., late one winter's night.

Now, I have a book I can take to speakers and ask them to tell me what we're looking at, in the language, free of the distracting non-Cree translations. Awe-some.

ekosi,
Rick

Forget Cree not

2006-02-07T14:21:00.000-07:00

I want to share with you a fun and effective way to remember new words: mnemonics.

(Which makes me wonder -- what memory trick did I ever use to remember how to say/spell that word?)

Now, because I can be downright silly, so can my mnemonics. Take, for example, how I am trying to lock in the word for 'I brush my teeth' — nikisîpekâpitân.

First thing I had to do, was note the elisions (see It's all an elision"). So the way it's actually spoken (I believe) is n'k'sîpekâp'tân.

After some repetitive listening and mimicry, I stumbled on what might work.

The first half of the word — 'n'k'sîpe-' (nn-kee-SEE-pay) — sounds like "Felipé" to me, while the second half — '-kâp'tân' (GAP-tan) — sounds like "captain" said real fast, like in one of those at-sea movies.

So, how do I remember it? That's right — Captain Felipé twisted around!

Silly, silly nâpew. Wait til I tell you one day what "my kangaroo needs your spare change" helps me recall!

ekosi,
Rick

It's all an elision

2006-02-07T14:08:00.000-07:00

Elision refers to when someone drops or 'crunches' a sound or syllable in their speech, typically when they speak quickly. An example in âkayâsîmowin (english) might be the way people drops their g's at the end of words like runnin' and smokin'. The word 'environment' is sometimes pronounced with little to no emphasis on the middle 'n.'

So for Cree-S-L'ers like me, it often makes learning new words ... challenging. Especially when you try to match the non-elided written forms of a word with the way they're said in everyday speech. I'll give you an example, using the verb to run.

So, where I would say in formal speech, "nipimipahtân" (I run), most fluent speakers would drop their i's, like so: n'pim'pahtân.

The 'n' sound at the beginning can be quite subtle if you don't know what you are listening for. Actually, even if you know what are listening for.

But I am starting to catch these crunches more and more, and it's a tiny victory when you can say, "Hey, she elided that!"

Oh, the small things you come to enjoy learning a second language.

ekosi,
Rick

Horizon scanning

2006-02-06T16:57:00.000-07:00

So reality has set in a bit.

Now, going in, I never imagined fluency was within reach after only 10 months of school, but I had hoped for some degree of competency or proficiency. My ambitions are now rather more humble: to just get as much into my head — and out of my mouth — as I can under the circumstances.

I see better now that language is a life-time pursuit. After 15+ years in the communications biz, you'd think I'd have figured that out ahead of time.

Still, 10 months of intensive practice in, and exposure to, the language is a serious base to build upon. It would be a shame to have that go to waste, which is why thoughts about whether to extend my time here somehow have entered my mind.

'Course, I'd still have to eat and whatnot, so the question of money comes up whenever I ponder devoting more time to langauge learning. My contract with APTN, hosting and producing the broadcast of excerpts from the Ipperwash Inquiry, likely draws to an end in March.

(By the way, second language learning really isn't helped when you have to take time away from it, working in your first language; I'm not complaining, just stating a fact. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it surprises me that there is not one dedicated scholarship out there that focuses on indigenous language acquisition/study. What does that say about people's priorities?)

Somehow, Nehiyawewin has taken over my life. But, if I've become hostage to it, I feel no need to escape.

ekosi,
Rick

Harp's Index

2006-01-31T12:52:00.000-07:00

Still in a numbers vein, check this out: to my amazement, the number of verbs I counted in "The Blue Boat," a 20 page book about kids with hearing impairments, was over 35.

Thirty-five verbs! In other words, about the number I have learned to date. The intended reading level is about, oh, say, 5 years old, so don't I feel just a tad infantile.

You definitely need modesty for this line of learning.

Another number for you to chew on is the number of times 'they' say a word must be said before you'll 'own' it — 400! The powers that be also claim it must be said 20 times in 20 different contexts.

So you need to be a bit of a social butterfly, too.

ekosi,
Rick

Cree-verbal

2006-01-30T13:13:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, for me, I need to have a quantitative picture of what's going on before I can feel like I am making reasonable progress.

Call it a trick of the mind if you want but it helps me to know the amount of learning I have achieved, by whatever measure works. In this case, I decided a while back to count the number of verbs I knew. Now, here, "knowledge" is a somewhat ambiguous description because there are times when I know them and times when I could not recall a Cree word to save my life.

Here's a partial list of what I now know as far as Nehiyawewin verbs, each of which have 8 conjugations (I, you, etc...) in 2 forms (independent and subjunctive) — which, in a way, means I know 16 times this amount of words:

dance
sing
live/reside in
sleep
speak Cree
speak English
learn
eat
go
play
cry
drink
walk
run
speak
float
write
read
smoke
sit
stand up
jump
laugh
go home
work
to be named
say
see something
see someone
understand s.o.
tired
hungry
cook

Thirty-four verbs. Multiply that by 16, you (technically) have 544 words. That's a lot in 5 months, I'd say. And I haven't really included the verbs I am still getting to know. And then there are the nouns.

Huh: maybe I ain't doing so bad after all.

ekosi,
Rick

A fellow "language geek"

2006-01-21T08:58:00.000-07:00

I wrote kayâs (long ago) that I would mention sites here from time to time that appear to share the same goal of promoting indigenous languages. Something of a nerdy Nehiyaw myself, I can empathize with the name of the website Language Geek (run by Christopher Harvey).

I have come it across numerous times in my google searches, and as a link from other sites. In its own words: "This site is dedicated to the promotion of Native North American languages, especially in providing a means by which these can be used on the internet."

Harvey currently works for the Santa Fe, New Mexico-based Indigenous Languages Institute, which "facilitates innovative, successful community-based initiatives for language revitalization through collaboration with other appropriate groups and organizations, and promotes public awareness of this crisis." Its links page looks promising too.

Now you know.

ekosi,
Rick

An urban Indian once more

2006-01-19T10:22:00.000-07:00

So, somehow I have forgotten to mention that I am now living in town, as the saying goes.

The locals call it St. Paul (my friend Roberta jokingly calls it "Santo Paulo," which lets us feel like we're globe-trotters), but its Cree name is Mannawanis. It means something to the effect of 'egg-gathering place.'

This means I am now a mere 5 km away from the school, instead of about 30 km. It also means I have a few more places to see and do things when not studying Nehiyawewin. (Although, the absence of a Tim Horton's is somewhat bitterly noted.) Once again, I am staying with a Cree speaker, as well as a Cree learner who just joined the program this term. This is a bonus.

It feels good to be (relatively) urban again — as much as one can in a town of 5,000, anyway —even if it's something of a trade-off compared to the optimal experience of living and learning in a community where only the language is spoken. That said, such a situation is not widely available in nearby Saddle Lake First Nation: there, English is more/less its lingua franca, a whole other subject unto itself, one I'm not at all qualified to comment on.

ekosi,
Rick

My first week of 'morphing'

2006-01-14T13:27:00.000-07:00

The other new class we took this week was Morphology. It may sound like some Gothic villian, but it's actually the study of the structure of words, and how words are formed.

Basically, it's breaking a word down into its constituent and functional parts. It's helping me remember words because it focuses on their elements or bits of meaning, not just their sounds/spelling. More reason, less rote.

Here's an example, as best as I can remember it. Take these two words:

pimipahtâw
(s/he runs)

pimohtew
(s/he walks)

Notice they both begin with the sound 'pim-', which, roughly translated, connotes movement. So, now, anytime I hear/see that 'pim-' at the start of a word, I'll already have some idea of what it could mean, subject to what follows in the rest of the word. Slick, eh?

It's going to get way more complicated and interesting than that obviously, and I am excited to pick up some of the subtleties and nuances of this language.

ekosi,
Rick

From ABC's to UJV's

2006-01-14T00:36:00.000-07:00

The first week of the second term over, and it bodes well for the rest of my stint here.

One of our new classes this term is syllabics, and it's already heaps o' fun. Syllabics is a Cree-specific writing system, as distinct from the "standard roman orthography" (i.e., ABC's) writing system borrowed from English.

There's quite a story behind its origins, which are disputed. Some say a non-Aboriginal priest invented it, but others hotly dispute that, saying the writing system is actually a gift from the Creator that came to a Nehiyawnapew (Cree man) in a dream. Either story dates their emergence from sometime in the 1800's.

The above representation of them includes 'L' and 'R,' although strictly speaking, the dialect I am learning doesn't have those sounds.

I will blog more about the way it works in the coming weeks. I will say here though that it is better to use a system that is meant to carry Cree sounds than try to modify SRO (English) characters to do it. I believe it confuses Cree-S-L'ers, who find it difficult when a letter takes on a much different pronunciation from its English context.

For example, a Cree 'k' on paper (e.g., masinahikan, or book) is said more like the 'g' in the English words 'gun' or 'gaga.' But when people see the 'k' they tend to say what they know, i.e., that crisp 'k' sound.

It's hard to break that association, so it may be better to introduce an entirely new one. Cree symbols stand uniquely for Cree sounds in the learner's mind. And that might even make learning the language easier for some.

ekosi,
Rick

Craving Cree

2006-01-10T16:20:00.000-07:00

Three weeks later, I am back in St. Paul, Alberta.

I have to say, I was not the diligent dude I set out to be. Life kind of just got in the way. But it appears the time off was beneficial in some unexpected ways.

Last term ended on a somewhat fatigued note, as a bunch of presentations came due in roughly the same 2-week time period. I returned to Winnipeg a bit fried.

While I gamely tried to pick up the books here and there, I guess I just tried to make the most of my 3 weeks at home instead.

Well, otakosihk (yesterday) nitotem Roberta and I decided we would try and say a dialogue we had learned in one of the immersion classes last term. It involved some classic 5W questions (i.e., who, what, where, when and why). I was reluctant to try because I thought I would forget most of it, but to my surprise, there the words were, ready to be spoken and understood. A pleasant surprise: geez, maybe dis Cree stuff is sinking in after all.

But what was most unexpected about being away from Nehiyawewin was how much I missed it. For the first time in a long time, I liked learning, and felt its absence. Yet, had I not left, I wonder if I would have appreciated it as much I now do. In this way, I had to leave it to see what it meant to me. Ain't that the way?

ekosi,
Rick

ps: nitotem Roberta challenged me to be blogging totally in Cree by the end of the school year. That was the plan, actually, but it too kind of slipped. And so I swear before all of you in cyberspace, I shall take up her challenge. Wapahki (tomorrow).

Cree à la mode

2005-12-05T11:00:00.000-07:00

It's become clear that a conventional approach to teaching Cree grammar has entrenched itself, one that may actually work against the "conversational" method of Blue Quills.

As I once wrote here, there are, as with other languages, two major verb forms, the independent (aka indicative) form and the subunctive (conjunct) form.

So, for example, where you'd say 'I work' in the independent form, you'd say, 'I am working' in the subjunctive.

Well, most if not all of the Cree textbooks developed so far cover both modes, with initial emphasis on the independent mode (I work). Which is not a problem in and of itself. But the thing is, it seems like most everyday speech takes the subjunctive form (I am working). So, when we first try to learn Cree by listening to and recording fluent speakers, they are using a different mode. It only adds to that initial confusion and bewilderment.

To me, the quickest way to learn to speak and hear a language would be to focus primarily on what's spoken and heard most, i.e., the subjunctive. That said, we do need to know the independent mode. But if the aim is to start dialoguing as soon as possible, maybe a new way of starting us off in Cree is in order.

And yes, this grammatical gobbledygook gives me a headache too. And no doubt, there's a good case to keep it the way it is, but I just thought I'd put it out there.

ekosi,
Rick

Why Cree can't take a holiday

2005-12-05T08:57:00.000-07:00

All of a sudden, it's December.

Tomorrow will mark 3 months that I have been in the program, and if you recall I gave myself that length of time — one term — to see if it was for me. Simply put, I am happy to report that it is.

The last day of class is Wednesday December 14. I worry that I may not be diligent enough to keep myself at least a little bit in Cree over the holidays while I am away. Our first day back is January 9, 2006.

I know a few speakers (not least nikâwiy, i.e., my mother, although she's got a different dialect) but as I have learned, not all speakers are natural teachers. But you make do, right?

Meanwhile, you can see my blogging has taken a back seat to the school work itself, so I hope to catch you up soon on my big 10-minute paired dialogue, the end-of-term assignment that me and my main language ally Roberta have been working on since September. I also recently attended a conference in Saskatoon on Prairie languages. Lots to report, but I have to go class in, like, nisto cipahikanis (3 minutes), so it'll have to wait.

ekosi,
Rick

The irony of slacking

2005-11-17T15:45:00.000-07:00

Adults forget the depths of languor
into which the adolescent mind
descends with ease. They are prone
to undervalue the mental growth
that occurs during daydreaming and
aimless wandering.

—Scientist/Conservationist E.O. Wilson

If the dearth of postings didn't give it away, last week was my first week of serious slack since I've been here. It may be nothing more complicated than just learner's fatigue, but it was still a concern. I'm one of these people who worry if he lets himself go, he'll never get back on track.

But just because the light is off, doesn't mean nobody's home. Recent conversations have led me to put aside my belief that an inactive brain is an unproductive brain. Because it seems our grey matter is never really "off." According to one supportive source, once you've ingested a sufficient amount of raw material, your brain kind of takes over from there. What you assume are mostly un-organized sounds take on a life of their own inside your nugget. As long as you give your brain something substantive to work with then, rest assured that your natural learning abilities will kick in, making learning both a conscious and unconscious process.

And, true enough, I believe the week off was actually good for me. (I should note I still attended class, so it technically wasn't a total withdrawal.) When I turned back in earnest to studying on my own time, I found I had 'lost' nothing. Huh: maybe there's something to this rest and reprieve business.

eksoi pitama,
Rick

Longest 2 minutes ever

2005-11-15T13:01:00.000-07:00

So some more positive news to report: recently, we were required to make oral presentations before our classmates. We were to come up with 2-3 minutes' worth of things to say. In English, that's laughably easy; in Cree, a tad terrifying.

But I'd been pretty diligent, and knew that, worse comes to worst, I could probably string together something. And on my own, or in front of one other person, I could. But, boy, once the day came and I got in front of that group (about 10 other students and my instructor) I found my throat going tight.

Like most in the class, my strategy was to rely on a set of phrases I'd memorized, down to the syllable. I also made sure I learned the Cree verb forms for "to say," so I could tell a rough story. (This way I could stick in a "s/he says" here, and a "I said" there, etc..) But there's a big gap between intake and output, that's for sure. Hearing, in other words, is very different from speaking.

Well, I must've picked something up these first 2 months or so. Not only did I achieve the magic 2-minute mark, I surpassed it by almost 3 minutes! Yessir, a 5-minute monologue about, among other things, what a friend cooked me for breakfast, and a porcupine I saw near the road one day. What was neat for me was that the kâkwa story was more or less ad-libbed. Now, sure, I didn't exactly race through my presentation, and the content wasn't as sizzling as an episode of Desperate Housewives, but I daresay it was competent.

And, hey, it's nice to exceed expectations. The next challenge: a paired dialogue at the end of this month. Mamaskac!

ekosi,
Rick

Understand your barriers

2005-11-14T12:46:00.000-07:00

So I caught myself in an odd way of thinking about Cree that's actually brought insight into English. Funny how that works.

You see, something that's made it hard for me to learn a second language is my need to know the precise meaning behind each of these new words. I find I resist taking in these sounds when I don't fully understand them. After all, didn't I do that with English?

Thinking about it some more, I realized: maybe not. What do I actually "know" about most of the English words I use? Take a word I just used a moment ago: "understand." Ironically, I'm not entirely sure I 'understand' how the make up of the word carries or connects to the concept it embodies. Under stand? Stand under what? After a while, I sussed out that it's somewhat metaphorical — so, if you understand something, you are aware of the ideas which "stand under" it.

Or so I am guessing. And that's my point. The stories or underlying meaning that lay behind much of our words — what some call their etymology — is typically hidden to us. And yet we somehow carry on. Can wanting to know everything about the words you're taking in effectively constitute a barrier to learning?

I wonder, I wonder.

ekosi,
Rick
Sipitakanepihk
(at Blue Quills College)

Rick asks for it

2005-10-30T17:06:00.000-07:00

Now that I've been here for a wee spell, i thought it might be timely and worthwhile to share my vision of a "perfect" Cree immersion learning experience. The people who run the program say it's just as much ours as it is theirs, so I write this in the hope they might indulge my effort to take greater "ownership" over things.

Before I get into it, though, I want to say upfront and for the record, that I think what the school has put in place so far is, overall, very good. What I propose would be just a supplement or complement to it.

As I wrote earlier, BQ's Cree program contains 4 main components — grammar class, immersion class, visits with native speakers and self-directed study at home. To these I propose to add another: highly-individualized, "portable" coaching/tutoring.

Bearing in mind that what follows is more/less "thinking out-loud," or rough ideas yet to be held up against the harsh light of day, I nonetheless believe you never get what you don't ask for. So, hear my pleas, oh language gods! Here goes.

First off, students would continue doing what we've been encouraged to do all along (outside of class) — pursue our own areas of language interest. We select the concepts we want to learn, picking up the words and grammar that go along with them in the process. We do this during our home visits with mother tongue Cree speakers.

Yet precious few speakers of the language can teach the language, and no one should expect them to. (Do you know all the grammatical in's-and-outs of English? ) What language learners need, then, are people who can regularly review, correct and champion our efforts "in the field." Someone who can accompany them on home visits, directly observe their learning process, then collaboratively diagnose and review what that individual student needs to work on as a result.

Now this could arguably happen at school. Maybe it's just a matter of simply re-structuring our current class time. As it stands now, it's organized fairly conventionally: instructors decide what we learn and lessons are conducted as a group. For this, I am in fact grateful; I can only take so much freedom, if you know what I mean. But since everyone learns in their own way, and at their own pace, this must also be taken into account.

Accordingly, I believe more specialized, one-on-one attention must be paid to students. The few times I have sought this on my own initiative (with the gracious indulgence of those who volunteered their time), it has worked wonders. As to the people who would supply this special, customized attention, what I've called coaches or tutors, they would be people who know their grammar, who can take what a speaker says and explain the rules underlying their words 'on the fly.' Ideally, they could also transcribe what's been said. Someone who could see where we consistently make mistakes and then devise methods to correct it. Someone who can facilitate relationships with speakers. Even take us on field trips to other Cree communities!

Ideally, each student whould get to pick a coach/tutor of their choice. And strange and counter-intuitive as it may sound, I think there should be what I call "Cree-S-L" speakers among them. Who better to know and understand what a second-language learner is going through and needs than someone who was once just like them?

Which raises another, somewhat related, point. There are only four students in the program this year, me included. I know there are probably quite legitimate reasons for this: it's a small school, it's only the second year for this program, it's trying to create a kind of revolutionary approach with unavoidable 'kinks' necessarily being worked out as they go.

Yet, by any estimation, four is not a very big number. And, for me, because no other course of learning can make you feel quite as fragile, stupid or dense as acquiring a second language, I need all the empathy I can get. So, if it isn't always a case of 'the more the merrier,' I do believe it'd be a positive version of 'misery loves company.' You need others who understand what you are going through, true peers who can turn to one another for support and strategy.

That's my two cents. I hope it's of use.

Getting a grip

2005-10-28T13:15:00.000-06:00

So I've had a bit of a breakthrough in my learning, a mini-victory I want to openly celebrate. And its implications are "beyond words."

Both times I've seriously tried to learn the language, something that's always eluded me were Cree's "conjunct" verb forms. In English, this is the "-ing" mode of verbs, e.g., I am runn-ing, I am eat-ing. By contrast, the "independent" form is less conversational, e.g., I run, I eat.

For some reason, other programs I've been in would start us off in the independent form. But most speakers use the conjunct form for everyday conversation, and it follows different rules of conjugation. So, where you can say nipimpahtan to mean 'I run,' you could also say e-pimpahtayân to mean 'I am running.'

You can see why the second form is more common in speech: if you were jogging along and someone called you on your cell and asked you what you were doing, replying 'I run' would sound almost caveman-ish. You need both forms to be able to speak to the occasion.

Well, this weekend I finally got a grip.

The tapes that go along with the U of A Introductory Cree course include drills for these two common verb forms, in all eight tenses. The tenses, with their rough English equivalent, are as follows:

1st person: ninipân / e-nipâyân
I sleep / I am sleeping

2nd person: kinipân / e-nipâyan
you sleep; you are sleeping

3rd person: nipâw / e-nipât
s/he sleeps; s/he is sleeping
(yes, Cree is gender neutral)

'4th person': nipâyiwa / e-nipâyit
e.g., his/her friend sleeps;
his/her friend is sleeping

1st person plural 'exclusive': ninipânân / e-nipâyâhk
we [not you] sleep; we are sleeping
('we' = everyone except the person
directly spoken to, i.e., 'us, but not you')

1st person plural 'inclusive': kinipânaw / e-nipâyahk
we [all] sleep; we [all] are sleeping
('we' = everyone in hearing range, i.e., 'us all,')

2nd person plural: kinipânâwâw / e-nipâyek
you [all] sleep; you [all] are sleeping

3rd person plural: nipâwak / e-nipâcik
they are sleeping

It may look confusing at first but it does begin to make sense after a while. (Quick aside: man, this language is cool. I just get alternately stunned and infuriated at the colossal arrogance and ignorance it must have taken Moniyawak missionaries and 'educators' to not be in awe of the sophistication and precision of indigenous languages. But I digress...)

This weekend, I realized I could probably more/less supply all 16 forms (8 independent; 8 conjunct) for at least 10 verbs. What's even cooler, the rules these verbs follow apply to dozens more verbs to come. In other words, without really knowing it, I've taken a huge step towards acquiring an even larger vocabulary. I now possess a key that unlocks many other doors; the key I've been waiting for.

So "buds" are beginning to show ever so slightly, just enough of a sign to make me think that staying the full 10 months would be worth it. You see, the program is divided into 3 terms: fall, winter and spring, and I gave myself (somewhat arbitrarily, admittedly) until the end of first term to see if Cree was for me. Nearly 2 months in, I am happy to report it is.

I just hope I can remember this for that inevitable next set of hurdles, if/when I start to get down on myself. Noting this week's highs should help me weather future weeks' lows.

ekosi,
Rick

A wheel challenge

2005-10-20T22:22:00.000-06:00

One of the most unexpected difficulties about going to school here has been my relative isolation. You see, I don't own a car — can't afford one, basically — and stay in a home a good 20 minutes' drive from the closest decent-sized town. This makes my home visits (not to mention social calls) just a tad frustrating and complicated.

Now, I thought biking might work for warmer times of year, but at 90 minutes one way to school, that makes it about 30 minutes over my limit.

So, call me naive, but I didn't expect people to live so far apart out here, but it seems that's the norm in the country. I know people enjoy their space, but really! Basically, everyone drives in the country, making me an anomaly. (What did people do before cars? What will they do should skyrocketing gas prices put us back to pre-car days?)

Adding to my challenges, the hugeness of the Saddle Lake reserve. Since a lot of the fluent speakers we're hoping to draw on live there — and not all in one place — it just makes things that much harder. Biking is not really a go here either, since it's about as far as Blue Quills school, only in the other direction.

All I can say is, I'll never take public transit for granted again.

ekosi,
Rick

My ever-expanding tool-kit

2005-10-19T13:02:00.000-06:00

Our program coordinators encourage us to think in terms of amassing a language-learning "portfolio" — basically, the set of materials we each use on our own time to bolster what we learn in class. I thought I'd share some of what's in mine:

* some modified flash cards, where the English is covered up with Cree

* music CDs, including Carl Quinn's two releases, "Nehiyo" and "Ni ototem" as well as Dolores Sand's "Classics in Cree"

* Cree grammar cassettes from the University of Alberta's "Introductory Cree" course, and for the textbook, "Cree: Language of the Plains/nehiyawewin: paskwawi-pikiskwewin" by Okimasis & Ratt

If you know of any Cree resources that may be of help — preferably in the Y dialect —please drop me a line.

ekosi maka,
Rick
ciki Manawansihk
(near St. Paul), AB

Streaming Cree

2005-10-12T16:55:00.000-06:00

Part of what I hope to do with this blog is direct people to nifty Cree language resources, on-line or otherwise.

Today I want to draw your attention to the Missinipi Broadcasting Corporation. MBC is a radio network that broadcasts across northern and central SK, reaching as far south as Saskatoon. And for 3 hours every weekday (1 to 3 p.m. local SK time), it features programming virtually all in Cree. According to the show's
blurb on the site, the "Achimowin" show "has been a major part of MBC broadcasts since 1984." It includes news, discussions; phone-ins, sports, weather and more -- all in Nehiyawewin.

Very cool, and I wish Alberta had something like it. That said, the MBC site does stream its programming on-line, so look for the green "listen on-line" button (found on the main page) in the top right corner to check it out!

ekosi maka,
Rick

Turning on LAMP

2005-10-09T13:52:00.000-06:00

So I am slacking... apologies.

Part of my challenge is not knowing exactly what to write about here. I assume that, for most of you, the minutia of language learning might be less than compelling. Then again, who'd read this but someone interested in the details of this process?

So I pledge to do my best to edit my day-to-day doings into something sizzling... well, ok, readable. Today, I thought I'd share with you a method we're encouraged to use for picking up the language. It's called "LAMP," or more precisely, "Language Acquistion Made Practical."

The L.A.M.P. method is documented extensively in a book written by Thomas and Elizabeth Brewster. Maybe too extensively. This leads into another personal lesson in language learing, one that could apply to every facet of my life: don't overthink things.

You see, when I take something on — projects, exercise, relationships — I tend to intellectualize and analyze them into the ground. This tends to be self-defeating. That was the case again here.

The LAMP method relies on drills, drills and more drills to help you improve comprehension, pronunciation and an understanding of grammar. At its core, though, the method is pretty basic: you sit down with a fluent speaker and tape-record a phrase or two, then take it home to practice hearing/saying it over and over and over again.

In short, record-repeat-review. Sounds pretty straightforward to me now, but it took a while for me to fully appreciate it. Thinking it was some complicated procedure requiring elaborate documentation, I devised these charts and forms to help me through the maze. I now wonder if I wasn't just stalling and procrastinating.

That said, I am one of these types who needs to understand how the method works before he'll practice it. I guess I am a skeptic.

Today, I recorded a couple of what LAMP-ers call "texts" -- what most of us would just call phrases. Here they are, written out somewhat phonetically:

Anohc, sisikwan e-ohseehuk.
(Today, I made a rattle.)

E-wimiyak nikawiy.
(I will give it to my mother.)

Not exactly abstract philosophy, but you got to start somewhere, n'moya?

kawapumtin wipac (i'll see you soon),
Rick

One ice cube at a time

2005-09-27T22:35:00.000-06:00

Live as if you were to die tomorrow
Learn as if you were to live forever

—Gandhi

Another core aspect of the BQ program that is also highly unusual is how student-centered it is. The program coordinators believe the best language learning for students comes from students. So they encourage us to come up with situations we want to learn the words for. This means we have a pivotal role in our learning, with the onus squarely on us individually, for better and worse (mostly the former so far, I’d say). At first, I was unprepared, having never done it in a school setting. I recently joked that maybe they should have "warned" us, although maybe I wouldn't have come if they had. :)

But it will be a challenge, no doubt about it. Consistency and self-discipline are not what I'd exactly call complimentary concepts in my educational history. I'm not the worst, but I'm far from the best. I tend to cram, so it will take a tectonic-scale shift in my habits to achieve what one friend called the necessary "relentlessness" of language acquisition.

Now, for those who might be curious, here's how my week works:

...............................................

MONDAY

Cree Grammar > 3 hours

Home Visits with language helpers > 3 hours

...............................................

TUESDAY

Cree Immersion > 3 hours

Cree Worldview > 3 hours
(mostly non-language class on Cree belief systems)

...............................................

WEDNESDAY

Cree Immersion > 3 hours

Language Learning Processes > 3 hours

...............................................

THURSDAY

Home Visits > 4 hours

...............................................

FRIDAY

Home Visits > 4 hours

...............................................

SATURDAY

"Advanced Grammar" > 2 hours
(informal study group I take part in)

...............................................

SUNDAY

e-nipâyân (I am sleeping!)

...............................................

It adds up to 23 language hours a week, 12 of them in-class. Does that seem like a lot or a little to you? At first, I only knew about the classroom time; no-one told me about the home visits. In fact, that's one area I wish Blue Quills had told me more about when I was deciding whether to take the program. My impression was that it was just the 12 hours a week, which brought me perilously close to not even coming at all. Luckily, as I wrote last time, my intuition said try it out anyway, and I am very glad I did.

And if you factor in our homework — 60 to 90 minutes a day — well, geez, I actually started to wonder at one point if it was too much. Careful what you wish for, nitotem (my friend). So put it all at somewhere around 30 hours, give or take.

Before I go, another organizing metaphor I came up with to help me understand the needs of second-language acquisition is a glacier. And since, like language, no one can swallow a whole glacier in one gulp, how do you take it all in? You guessed it: one ice cube at a time, baby, one cube at a time. Now, that's truly a mouthful!

And with that, I bid you miyo-tipiskâw.

Rick

An end to whining

2005-09-27T14:34:00.000-06:00

Well, in a bid to be more regular (if briefer), I am going to try posting more than once a week. I worry I'll have thoughts and insights slip away if I don't.

So, I think it's high time I finally got over myself. To put an end to my whining about what is an utterly self-imposed 'hardship.' I am here to learn, period, and I intend this blog to be a record of my learning process and progress, not some tear-stained pout-fest. That said, I admit I am a bit of an irrepressible drama queen, so asides regarding my emotional state won't go away entirely. Besides, we've been encouraged by the program to identify any and all barriers to our learning, and language seemingly brings out all sorts of semi-debilitating insecurities in me.

Where these insecurities and emotions are relevant as barriers has to do with my general motivation for being here — to do my bit to help restore what generations of institutionalized anti-Aboriginal practice have severed. Pretty profound stuff. But thanks to a mini-epiphany over the past week, I realized such thinking may be leading me astray.

You see, distilled to its every day essence, second language learning is, in fact, far from profound. Quite the opposite. What I mean is, I now see that learning a new language as an adult requires that you break it down to its smallest bits — one manageable phrase at a time. No one "built Rome in a day," and a language is a metropolis.

I find it helpful to think of it as a puzzle with 10,000 pieces (maybe even 100,000): as each small piece falls into place, you gradually assemble various parts of the picture as a whole. So what if most of it is unintelligible at the start. You just trust that, gradually, some of the pieces will start to agglomerate; pretty soon, bigger chunks form, chunks that connect to other chunks as you find out how they fit together.

But it all starts with those teeny-tiny bits. If you're paying attention, you'll eventually see how some bits follow the same pattern as others. And like the best puzzle people, you learn the virtues of patience.

I'm slowly becoming so virtuous. Some of the mud that's been slung at the wall called my brain these past 15 days has started to stick. The key is consistency, manageability and a tight focus. So, while it's truly awesome to contemplate that these words were, in many cases, the very same sounds uttered by my ancestors hundreds, if not thousands of years ago, I must tell myself none of that is at stake whenever I inevitably flub a language exercise. Talk about pressure! (One day I will be able to! yuk yuk)

So, as I "stumble towards fluency" (coined in a recent conversation with my close friend Robyn), I have to remember that language learning is work both glorious and grunt-like in nature. A task that ultimately lifts spirits only by getting downin the dirt, one 'puzzling' word at a time.

ekosi pitama,
Rick

A second chance

2005-09-25T23:49:00.000-06:00

"What you can do
or dream you can do,
begin it!

Boldness has genius,
power and magic in it."

—Goethe

Week 3 of Cree language school begins tomorrow, and I'm thinking about intuition. I realized this weekend that if anything's responsible for finally getting me Alberta-bound, it was something in my gut telling me I *had* to do this. 'Cause to be perfectly honest, the scariest thing about being here was/is having no idea what could come after. Which doors could close because of the dramatic new path I have chosen to take? Which might open?

Hence my appreciation for Goethe's words, because it does feel quite 'bold' of me to so totally uproot myself from all that I knew and had grown accustomed to. It is a leap of faith, especially when I don’t know exactly what I'm putting my faith in. But life is never certain, I tell myself, and we never know what's around that next corner, so you could argue I am living life as it really is. In truth, my life has been too certain and comfortable for long enough. Change is the flow of life, and vice versa. Perhaps there's more than one kind of immersion going on here.

Let me tell you more about my first week. The first few days only served to stoke my keen awareness of how few people I knew here. I was out of it. All I could think of was what I'd left behind. Leaving my friends in Winnipeg felt a bit too much like it could be permanent, even if I couldn't figure out why.

I soon got a chance to tour nearby Saddle Lake, a reserve of about 5,000 people, one of Canada’s biggest, I'm told, both in population and area. You definitely need a car to get around this part of the country, something I don’t have.

As far as my living situation goes, it wasn't long before I could see it'd be great. Without getting into detail (I want to respect people's privacy as much as I can), I am billeting in a house with 3 adult speakers of Cree (one as a mother tongue) plus a youngster. They're all committed to the language. You don’t get much better than that.

When the first week ended, it felt like I'd been here a month. I started to get my bearings bit by bit — geographically, emotionally and linguistically. But learning a new language is extremely unsettling and 'disjointing.' You cannot understand, you cannot make yourself understood. All you feel is futility and humility. (I'm still feeling that, nevermind!)

Then there was the sweat, a ceremony organized by the school as a way to welcome the students and have us meet the elders who'll be helping us learn Cree. For the uninitiated (which frankly makes you only slightly less aware than me), a sweat takes place within a round, canvas-covered enclosure known as a sweatlodge. There, drum songs are played as water poured upon super hot stones generates an all-pervasive steam cloud, enveloping those inside. They say it's meant to be like a womb: dark, hot and cut-off. To say more than that would likely risk my speaking either ignorantly or inappropriately.

It was my first-ever sweat. I've stayed away for personal reasons, ones I don't care to get into right now, but it's mostly out of respect for those who do regularly sweat. I wanted to wait until it felt right for me to be in the circle, and it did.

With the rounds of song over and everyone still inside, we talked about the program and the importance of keeping the language strong. When my turn came up, I broke down as I tried to tell a story about my late maternal grandfather and I, the single most vivid memory I have of him. He spoke next-to-no English, and I recall as a boy of about 11 or so standing in front of him as he sat on our couch in Winnipeg, speaking to me in Cree, smiling warmly, and holding my arm. As my mother translated, he said he could not understand the words I was saying. Without hesitation, I replied, "Well, I wish I spoke Cree too, because then I would talk to you all day." He laughed, and his big smile grew even bigger. I obviously can't fulfill that wish today, but I can do my best to ensure Nehiyawewin will never be a barrier in my family again.

After the sweat, we ate. (I prepared what I called a 'simple' version of thai chicken curry, a description the program coordinator teased me to no end about.) The meal over, we got to talk a little more with our language mentors, three older women and one older man. They're all residents of nearby reserves, and the idea is for us students to visit with them at their homes about 3 times a week.

They're a fun group, who didn't take long to start joking with us and each other. I took an instant shine to them. It's another component of the program that makes it unique. For me, when I think about it, I realize it's a sort of second chance to share in the wisdom, experience and generosity of an older generation, a chance I sincerely hope to take full advantage of this time 'round..

ekosi,
Rick

An urban fact of life

2005-09-20T21:12:00.000-06:00

Continuing with my theme of self-location, I told you last entry that I was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba. It's where my mother eventually ended up years after leaving northern Saskatchewan. Apart from a few months in junior high, I spent 99% of my formative years in that city, right up until 22, when I finally left to go to uni in Ottawa. This gave me a very urban Indian upbringing, with all the baggage (and benefits) that carries.

Nowadays, Winnipeg is 'full' of Indians: at a price, some would say, to who we are as Indians, whatever kind we may be (Cree, Dakota, Ojibway, etc.). I suppose I have paid a price, culturally speaking, and it makes me wonder - often defensively - what business I have going around identifying as a Nehiyaw. Usually, though, most if not all of the arguments claiming I'm not draw on fundamentally EuroCanadian ways of thinking. In other words, non-indigenous definitions of indigenous people, and there's no way I'm ever going to identify myself according to that.

But as far as where that locates me, I know that I didn't have the chance to hear the language as often as many of those on-reserve do. My turf was English, and Cree was not a ready option. I don't blame anyone for that; it's just a fact of my life.

And so, as a city-Indian-without-apologies, substantive opportunities to learn and reinforce my language are less than abundant. Take my word for it: for its approach to Cree, Blue Quills College is damn-near unique. A few universities offer the chance to write and read Cree a few hours a week, but that's not what works for me. I crave sound, not script. Yes, text is an invaluable linguistic medium and repository, possessing a magic all its own, but, in the case of Nehiyawewin, I've come to appreciate how it's the speaking and hearing of the language that count most for me. It's what BQ believes too, and that's why I'm here, thousands of kilometres away from my home, a million miles away from all my comfort zones. My textbooks and teachers keep telling me, "This is the hardest thing you'll ever attempt," and boy, I believe it.

Take my first day. It was intense. Even though I am staying with a family of speakers very committed to the language, even though I know I am here for great reasons, personal and otherwise, I couldn't help but feel like I was at the edge of some kind of abyss. Terrified at the overwhelming unfamiliarity of my surroundings, by thoughts of what I was leaving behind (or headed toward) in utter uncertainty, I felt five years old. Seriously.

The only person I knew here - Roberta, the very same friend I mentioned last entry - had just arrived, but with no phone to reach her on. I was the proverbial stranger in a strange land, left all by my lonesome to find my bearings. What had I got myself into?

Someone reading this might want to know *how* I got myself into this? Well, I don't recall exactly when, but at some point this past spring, that old friend of mine Roberta mentioned she was seriously considering moving to AB to take Cree in this really awesome-sounding program. After my own research into it, I realized two things: a) that the program's approach was indeed awesome; and b) newly unemployed, I had this huge open window of opportunity to do anything I wanted with my life anywhere I wanted to do it.

After going back and forth on it, I decided I had nothing to lose except 3 months of my time and $3000 (the first term tuition), plus two rents (a room here and one back home in a shared housing co-op). From cowardly beginnings can come noble deeds, itwew (he said).

Oops: a slight tangent. Next time, I promise more introspection on just who the heck I think I am taking this language of my ancestors.

ekosi,
Rick
near Saddle Lake FN

Locating my tongue

2005-09-16T21:58:00.000-06:00

Tan'si nitotemak!

Welcome to MimiCree, an effort to document my language learning journey over the next 10 months.

Ten days ago, I began the Cree Language Certificate Program at Blue Quills First Nations College near St. Paul, AB. Since then, I have been vowing to activate this blog. Well, it seems the best way to begin a journal like this is to locate oneself, on a variety of planes. Today will be part one of that.

My name is Rick Harp, a 37-year-old man whose mother is Cree and whose father is not. While my relationship to the Cree language (aka Nehiyawewin) has obviously spanned my entire life, I would say it's really been the past 13 years that've seen me try to connect to it most seriously.

Way back in 1992, while pursuing a political science degree, I enrolled in an introductory Cree language course offered at Carleton University in Ottawa. I was 24 years old then, and was very excited that a Prairie kid like me (born and bred in Winnipeg, with a mother from Southend, SK, at the foot of Reindeer Lake) was getting the chance to learn his language.

The excitement didn't last, and neither did I. Why not? Well, for one thing, the dialect the instructor taught was James Bay Cree, different from the Cree my mother speaks. (More on why she never taught me later.) Where theirs uses "n" and "l," mine uses "th." (More on that later too.) The course was taught by a linguist who actually lived and taught in JB communities; I think he found it odd to work with people in an urban, classroom environment. He assigned us way too much work, enough to fill my week all on its own. I ended up dropping out to make time for my honour's thesis.

However, frustrating as it was, the Carleton course had one lasting effect: the friends I made -- most notably, Roberta and Tamara, two Crees from Kehewin AB. Talk about your circles coming around.

But we'll get to that another day. My main priority today was to get this bloggy ball a-rolling. Keyapic wipac (more soon)!

ekosi,
Rick
near the Saddle Lake First Nation, AB.