Written Task 1 #1: Memoirs of a Dying Language

Rationale

In a world where globalization becomes more evident with each passing day, the disappearing of cultures that are overtaken by the bigger, more influential ones is a common issue, and along with that the disappearance of their languages. This is a serious issue, because language constitutes a very significant part of a people’s culture and once it is lost a crucial part of their culture and knowledge is lost forever. The Tlingit, a Native American tribe in Alaska, are one of the communities facing this issue currently, since their language is being overtaken by English.

I chose to write a memoir from the perspective of a hypothetical renowned Tlingit theater director who is living in modern-day New York and has been there for 20 years. The man has a strong passion for his ethnicity and his work in the world of theater has often been about cultural diversity and its importance. In the memoir he shares his experience growing up as a child and how his parents would sometimes discourage him from learning Tlingit in order to avoid discrimination. He also talks about how he decided to further learn the language on his own from the diaspora arisen from living in the city. Since he is a renowned director a memoir would be an appropriate way for him to communicate his thoughts, since this is a medium that involves a fair amount of creativity and people will want to read it because they know who he is, which makes it more relevant.

Memoir of a Dying Language

I remember my parents kept it a secret for a while. According to their stories I had heard them speak in Tlingit when I was a baby, but once they realized that I had begun speaking they decided to stop and only used English. When I was eight I remember imagining that I was some sort of chosen hero from a distant land, because I had these memories in my head of strange words. Words I had never heard anybody pronounce before and that left my friends baffled when they saw I could articulate such a different set of phonemes. I was really feeling like someday my fate would be revealed to me by some holographic crystal and that I would save the Earth as a fully-fledged superhero from a cool distant planet. Of course, that only lasted until I overheard my parents speaking in Tlingit one night while they thought I was asleep. Overcome by my naïve sense of adventure I walked forth into the kitchen and, completely oblivious to the horror faces my parents made, I asked: “Mom, dad, is there something that you’re keeping a secret from me?”

That was when I found out about it. I was disappointed that I wasn’t from some alien race that would be able to fly, but what I discovered that night shaped the course of my life forever. After they exchanged looks, my mom turned to me and said: “Son, there are so many things that we would like to tell you about, but we have never done so, because we do not want you to go through what we went.” At this point my eight-year-old mind is too drawn into the action to try to understand the depth of what my mother was saying. “Why don’t you sit down son?” Said my dad. “We have a few things we would like to tell you.”

That night, my parents taught me three things. Firstly, that we were direct descendants of the Tlingit tribe, but that the days of what I would imagine an Indian tribe doing were over. Secondly, that in order to be happy one must forget the Tlingit heritage and try to be like the other kids. And lastly, that yinaanáx means family and that that is what we are. My childish mind was dumbfounded by these teachings, to the point that when my mom told me to go to sleep right afterwards I did not have the mind to tell her I wanted to know more and I simply complied. The next day they did not let me ask the question, and somehow managed to get me to school without me knowing anything else. When I got to school and told my friends about what I had learned, one of them said that their dad had forbidden him to hang around Indian kids because they were dirty. At that moment he apologized and, along with his two best friends, he simply walked away. Now I understood what mom had told me about society. It would take a while before I understood why I should love my heritage.

From that point on my parents weren’t too shy about talking in Tlingit, but they would never speak to me in it. I was to learn proper English and how to fit in with the rest, so that one day I could go on and do great things. In my teenage years I was already able to grasp a few more words and my pronunciation was getting better with each day. Or at least that’s what it seemed like, since I didn’t have anyone to tell me whether it was alright or not. Sometimes my mom would help me, but that was a rare occasion. And by now I could understand why. It became evident once I began to socialize with more people that my Tlingit heritage was the bane of my life. And yet the desire to learn this language never disappeared. I wanted to understand where I was coming from, I wanted to feel unique for who I actually was and not what “society” wanted me to be like. Whenever I said a word in Tlingit it felt like I was entering a completely different universe. One that was filled with unlimited knowledge that had somehow been denied to me for so long.

After I graduated from High SchoolI had the opportunity to go live in the Big Apple, and that was when I realized that the bane of my life could easily become the most powerful boon: inspiration. I decided to go into the world of theater not just because I liked it, but also because it was a medium through which I could express in any way I wanted; including Tlingit. In this place, which is probably the most culturally diverse that there is, people praised me for these random nonsense that suddenly showed up in the middle of a monologue and when people asked me to be in their plays they would often want me to use Tlingit in it. I also discovered that I was not the only one who went through this story. Asian Americans, other Indians, Latin Americans, all of who grew up in the USA had to try to forget their heritage so that they could fit in. The same sad story repeated way too many times.

This was what gave me the inspiration to do what I do. In every culture, no matter how small or discriminated, there is a huge amount of knowledge that is hidden, and often the language is the easiest way to access it. With the internet, I have managed to become a fluent Tlingit speaker, embracing my culture more than ever before. And this is my life now, encouraging people to embrace their own cultures, whatever the cost may be. Because if a culture is lost, then it is gone forever. And that, is a loss to all of mankind.