I really liked this essay. I already knew that Native languages were heavily based on things in nature, but it was fascinating getting to see the specific word meanings as compared to English. Their word for fern, for example, was so intricate and had many different parts, whereas we just call it a fern in English. I found myself trying to think of examples of nature speaking words we had in English, but I wasn’t very successful, except I thought of how we sometimes use “mountainous” in English to mean something very large. I was shocked to read that “once there were between 10,000 and 15,000 languages in the world. Today there are barely 6,000, and half of those are no longer being learned (Lord 485). Wow. In one regard, that could be seen as a good thing in that more people are fewer languages and are more united, more people can be understood by others. But on the other more potent side, a language goes with a culture and that group of people’s history, and those are completely gone now. In the Trail of Tears alone there were many tribes completely decimated, languages and cultures that the world will never know. In that regard, that fact is hard to swallow. It’s hard to imagine an entire culture being evaporated.
First of all, I really enjoyed Lord's writing style. It is one that mixes personal experience with facts, and it is altogether lovely. In using deep imagery and description, Lord created scenes with her words that I otherwise wouldn't be able to imagine. The way that Lord speaks of language as a living, breathing part of an environment gave me chills while reading this essay. On page 481, Lord writes "Languages, of course, belong to environments in the same way that living creatures do, shaped by and shaping the places that spawn them, both in the words needed to identify and address the particulars of those places and in the structures needed to survive in them." Wow! I'm truly left speechless. It breaks my heart that words and language are being taken for granted in a world in which native languages are constantly dying, but I know that I have not been part of the solution; instead, I have been part of the problem. Young adults in my sphere of the world are accustomed to speaking English from birth, and a chosen few are taught another language at home by parents who want to give their children a leg up on the competition. I plan to be one of these parents myself, wanting my child to deepen his or her language skills at an age that is most conducive to this. But Lord warns against this practice saying that though it is fine and dandy, it is no substitute for "traditional family-to-child language learning" (485).
In the reading, I was overjoyed to revisit a subject that many English majors know of: the concept of linguistic relativity. I really enjoy this concept as I find truth in it. Just as Mrs. Sheffield was saying that she sometimes has trouble finding a word in English to communicate a specific concept in ASL, there are certain things that just cannot be translated or communicated effectively between cultures. The example of time in the Hopi community sticks with me because time is a very important aspect of my life. I am constantly thinking of time in a linear fashion, and I hardly ever think beyond this concept of time in my daily life. But had I been born into a Hopi family my concept of time would be something else entirely. As a native English speaker I think: "How would I order my life? How would I prioritize?" But had I been born into a Hopi family these particular questions may not have even crossed my mind.
Although I agree with Lord’s overall point—that languages and cultures need to be preserved—I found her way of presenting it to be slightly divisive. At the end of her essay, Lord praises the Dena’ina’s way of greeting others, saying that their emphasis on the “it” instead of the “you” demonstrates a culture dedicated to the community and the larger world.
To contrast the Dena’ina’s sense of community, Lord uses an example from her native English language. The greeting “How are you?” she insists, implies an “anthropocentric” and “egocentric” worldview.
Although I sincerely tried to keep my emotions in check through this paragraph, I could not help but become angry at Lord for the sweeping generalization she made about her own culture. Yes, cultures that speak English do seem to be more individualistic, but does this mean we are also more selfish?
Lord seems to be encouraging cultural acceptance and diversity while simultaneously making a negative value judgment about the English language and the cultures that use it. This attitude only serves to trigger a kind of instinctual urge to lash out in English speakers—it certainly did in me—and seems to contradict everything else her essay was trying to say.
Lord’s essay seems to fall victim to the “magical Native American” trope popular throughout many English films and literature. To Lord, the Dena’ina’s language is special, almost “better,” than her own language. “I try to imagine how differently,” writes Lord, “or more clearly—I might see my world if I had the Dena’ina language precision with which to know me surrounding and my place in them” (484).
Personally, I think the only way to encourage true cultural and linguistic understanding is for English speakers—or any other language speaker for that matter—to stop putting down their own language. Yes, some languages are better at handling some concepts better than others, but this does not mean that they are inherently better than any other.
I really liked this essay. I already knew that Native languages were heavily based on things in nature, but it was fascinating getting to see the specific word meanings as compared to English. Their word for fern, for example, was so intricate and had many different parts, whereas we just call it a fern in English.
ReplyDeleteI found myself trying to think of examples of nature speaking words we had in English, but I wasn’t very successful, except I thought of how we sometimes use “mountainous” in English to mean something very large.
I was shocked to read that “once there were between 10,000 and 15,000 languages in the world. Today there are barely 6,000, and half of those are no longer being learned (Lord 485). Wow. In one regard, that could be seen as a good thing in that more people are fewer languages and are more united, more people can be understood by others. But on the other more potent side, a language goes with a culture and that group of people’s history, and those are completely gone now. In the Trail of Tears alone there were many tribes completely decimated, languages and cultures that the world will never know. In that regard, that fact is hard to swallow. It’s hard to imagine an entire culture being evaporated.
-Tori W.
First of all, I really enjoyed Lord's writing style. It is one that mixes personal experience with facts, and it is altogether lovely. In using deep imagery and description, Lord created scenes with her words that I otherwise wouldn't be able to imagine. The way that Lord speaks of language as a living, breathing part of an environment gave me chills while reading this essay. On page 481, Lord writes "Languages, of course, belong to environments in the same way that living creatures do, shaped by and shaping the places that spawn them, both in the words needed to identify and address the particulars of those places and in the structures needed to survive in them." Wow! I'm truly left speechless. It breaks my heart that words and language are being taken for granted in a world in which native languages are constantly dying, but I know that I have not been part of the solution; instead, I have been part of the problem. Young adults in my sphere of the world are accustomed to speaking English from birth, and a chosen few are taught another language at home by parents who want to give their children a leg up on the competition. I plan to be one of these parents myself, wanting my child to deepen his or her language skills at an age that is most conducive to this. But Lord warns against this practice saying that though it is fine and dandy, it is no substitute for "traditional family-to-child language learning" (485).
ReplyDeleteIn the reading, I was overjoyed to revisit a subject that many English majors know of: the concept of linguistic relativity. I really enjoy this concept as I find truth in it. Just as Mrs. Sheffield was saying that she sometimes has trouble finding a word in English to communicate a specific concept in ASL, there are certain things that just cannot be translated or communicated effectively between cultures. The example of time in the Hopi community sticks with me because time is a very important aspect of my life. I am constantly thinking of time in a linear fashion, and I hardly ever think beyond this concept of time in my daily life. But had I been born into a Hopi family my concept of time would be something else entirely. As a native English speaker I think: "How would I order my life? How would I prioritize?" But had I been born into a Hopi family these particular questions may not have even crossed my mind.
-Emily
Although I agree with Lord’s overall point—that languages and cultures need to be preserved—I found her way of presenting it to be slightly divisive. At the end of her essay, Lord praises the Dena’ina’s way of greeting others, saying that their emphasis on the “it” instead of the “you” demonstrates a culture dedicated to the community and the larger world.
ReplyDeleteTo contrast the Dena’ina’s sense of community, Lord uses an example from her native English language. The greeting “How are you?” she insists, implies an “anthropocentric” and “egocentric” worldview.
Although I sincerely tried to keep my emotions in check through this paragraph, I could not help but become angry at Lord for the sweeping generalization she made about her own culture. Yes, cultures that speak English do seem to be more individualistic, but does this mean we are also more selfish?
Lord seems to be encouraging cultural acceptance and diversity while simultaneously making a negative value judgment about the English language and the cultures that use it. This attitude only serves to trigger a kind of instinctual urge to lash out in English speakers—it certainly did in me—and seems to contradict everything else her essay was trying to say.
Lord’s essay seems to fall victim to the “magical Native American” trope popular throughout many English films and literature. To Lord, the Dena’ina’s language is special, almost “better,” than her own language. “I try to imagine how differently,” writes Lord, “or more clearly—I might see my world if I had the Dena’ina language precision with which to know me surrounding and my place in them” (484).
Personally, I think the only way to encourage true cultural and linguistic understanding is for English speakers—or any other language speaker for that matter—to stop putting down their own language. Yes, some languages are better at handling some concepts better than others, but this does not mean that they are inherently better than any other.