Returning to My Indigenous Language



My Indigenous Language is now bandwagon. Or ojibway I am not a fluent speaker not even close. I grew up in with socks in first nation on Georgian Bay surrounded by national more speakers but back in the nineteen eighties. The language wasn't passed down to many of us kids. That's because the Indian act had made it mandatory for children to attend residential schools in day schools where they weren't allowed to speak their language in our community. Most of my dad's attended those schools. They felt the general shame that became associated with the language itself so I don't blame anyone in my family or community for not teaching me not bitcoin but it's been largely up to communities and individuals themselves to do the repair work. We had daily classes in elementary school on the Rez. But that's not nearly enough to learn a language fluently especially one that has so much history and emotion connected to it as a teen. I didn't take someone seriously at all. And my former education officer didn't place any value on it but moving from the rest of the city for university and then to start a career changed my perspective along for the sounds that I didn't necessarily understand but that I knew where the foundation of who I was as knobby so for the last two decades my life as an urban indigenous person. I've been trying to finally learn my language properly. Although not necessarily successfully I'd go to free community classes in whatever city I lived. I bought inboard as many books and resources as possible. I even took university courses here and there most recently at the University of Sudbury my path finished. Obama and fluency is still a bit unclear but the urgency is sharper than ever especially. Now that I'm forty. The older generations of indigenous language speakers are dying and as the parents who were three year old with another baby on the way. It's up to people like me to ensure the language has a chance with the next generation and my story isn't

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