Storytelling

The Importance of Speaking Our Language
By Bill LeBlanc

The soul of the tribe and the sovereignty of the Indian nation is in its adherence to culture and its language, while at the same time becoming attuned to the educational and economic values in the predominant social system. In the 1920s, Bay Mills Indian Community as it’s now knows, was subjected to a certain amount of isolation and segregation from communities as close as Brimley. Brimley was only occasionally visited to take advantage of slightly bigger markets available there. Many of the Bay Mills people walked to the store and carried their purchases home in a pack usually made out of a burlap bag.

Despite this isolation, it seemed to the people of that day that they must become adapted to the language of the broader community. The only nearby schools available were taught only in English. The Indian day and boarding schools minimized references to Native cultural values and language.

The elders of the late 1920s were the last tribal members who regularly spoke the Ojibwe language (Anishinaabemowin). Many of them lost their language when they were sent away to federally mandated boarding schools, such as the Mt. Pleasant Indian School my mother and her siblings attended in the early 1900s. Native languages were still banned when I went there and to Haskell a generation later from (DATES). My generation and those that came before me had to know English in order to succeed in the logging camps and mills, and to market their furs and other gathered forest foods. They needed it to read the local newspapers, legal documents, treaties, and many other important documents.

This is why I so value the Bay Mills Community College Anishinaabemowin program. I see these classes as a link to the past and the means by which a firm step may be made into the future.

The language studies are being conducted under a format called “immersion.” Generally, that means surrounding yourself with the sounds and meaning of a mode of communication. Immersion studies are based on a concept of hearing over and over again various subjects and stories with the premise that so many hours of familiarization will bring the student to the state of understanding. Ultimately, it enables the student to speak. Students are encouraged to read other materials and to become familiar with Indian words. Teachers utilize skits to give the student an opportunity to relate the words to actions and to learn the body language important to the communicative process. A general precept of the learning process is to make the study as near like that which a child would encounter in his or her home.

The child goes through several stages that include hearing, exploratory sounds, interaction with a family member, and eventually the use of simple words to initiate the actual communication. It is of course difficult to imitate the child’s learning methods in a classroom, but the fact that you can converse and even read this essay proves how successful it is.

To learn the language today, it is important to stay at it. Try to find someone who speaks and then practice some dialogue like what Kyle offers us here. Take a class, or start one. There are so many websites and books available with easy-to-learn lessons in them. Powwows are a great place to find them, or go online to anishinaabemowinpane.com. We have students who’ve been at it for a number of years who can carry on simple conversations. Some are actually teaching children how to speak.

It is the hope of the founders of the Bay Mills Community College Language Program that many of the students will eventually become teachers of the language. As the program says about its approach: “The teaching and learning process of these programs are developed in a manner that is unique and dynamic, Nishnaabe driven, and attempts to make a difference in the lives of the learners. In past history, the educational experiences of Nishnaabe people have not been pleasant and their rich culture largely unappreciated. This has changed dramatically in the past few years with the ever increasing awareness and enhancement of pride in this rich heritage. “

It should be noted that in addition to the importance of the Native language classes, they are really fun! DO YOU HAVE A STORY??

Each learning experience brings about a great deal of satisfaction. (Find out more at the program website: http://bmcc.edu/ProgramsFaculty/certificateprograms.html#nls)

Language studies have always been a part of the successful college program and the reinstitution of Ojibwe as our first language should give our young people the confidence and pride they need to handle the challenges of higher education. That is so necessary to succeed in the world we are a part of today.

Miigwetch miinwaa baamaapii!

(text goes here)

An elder of Bay Mills told this story to me.

His name is John.

When he was young his family lived in Bay Mills.

(translation)

Maanda dbaajmowin gaa-wiindmawid gete-Anishnaabe wa Gnoozhekanning njibaad.

Zhaabadiis izhinikaazo.

Pii gaa-shkiniigid Gnoozhekanning doodeman gii-daawan.

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It was winter.

His father said, "We are going fishing at Round Island."

They made spears and hooks to use.

(translation)

Gii-bboon.

"Gawaading nwiii-zhaami Waawye-Minising," oosan gii-ikidoon.

Nitan miinwaa mgiskanan gii-zhitoonaawaan wii-nokaazwaad.

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That day they got up early in the morning.

They put on warm clothes.

They put everything onto the sleigh.

(translation)

Gii-nikaawag gchi-gizheb wi pii.

Giizho-gwiwnan gii-biiskaanaawaan.

Kino gegoo gii-toonaawaa zhooshksensing.

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They walked across the ice.

They walked for many hours.

They arrived there where they would be fishing.

They worked very hard and chopped a hole in the ice.

(translation)

Gii-tkamiiwag mkomiing.

Gii-bbimsewag niibna nso-dbaabaan.

Gii-ni-dgoshiniwag zhiwe waa-nji-giigoonykewaad.

Gii-gchi-nokiiwag mii dash gaa-bgowaawaad niwi mkomiin.

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They looked into the hole.
They put the bait into the water.
They waited.
Soon they saw a whitefish.
Father was ready.

He thrust the spear at the fish.
He got it!
Oh no! No rope!
He didn't tie the rope to the spear
They were very quiet for a while.

(translation)

Gii-dbaapiwag mkomiing.

Gii-toonaawaan shamoojgan nibiing.

Gii-baabiinhaawag.

Wiiba gii-waabimaawaan dikamegwan.

Oos gii-giizhiitaa.

Gii-gdawaakwaanaa giigoonhiin.

Gii-biindohnaan dikamegwan.

Sshtaa taa haa! Gaawii gegoo sabaap!

Gaawiin gii-tkobdoosiin.

Aapji gii-bizaanyaawag jina.

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Then they laughed and laughed

"Don't tell anyone, OK?" their father said.

"OK," they said.

(translation)

Mii dash gii-gchi-baa-baapiwag.

"Gegwa awayaa wiindmowaa kegwa, ahaaw?" ooswaan gii-ikidoon.

"Nahaaw," gii-kidowag.

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They walked back home.

I asked him if he ever told anyone what happened that day.

"Everyone that I saw," he said laughing.

(translation)

Gii-ni-giiwe gaadesewag.

Ngii-gkwejimaa giishpin awaya gii-wiindimowaad gaa-zhiwebag wi pii.

"Kina awaya gaa-waabmangid," gii-kid baapid.

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The end.

(translation)

Mii wi.

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Republished with permission from "Sshtaa taa haa!" by Wanda Perron, illustrated by Casey Munz (Bay Mills Indian Community, Bay Mills, MI: 2004).

According to my teachings, the proper time to peel birch bark is immediately after the first thunderstorm. The reason behind the birch bark and the thunderstorms is explained in the story, "Nanaboozhoo and the Thunderbirds".

Nanaboozhoo offered Native Americans the benefits of birch bark in gratitude toward the birch tree from sparing his life from the thunderbirds.

As Ojibwe legend has it, once when the earth was very young, the spirit-child Nanaboozhoo (Naniboujou--there are many acceptable spellings) was born. His father was the wind. His mother walked the earth among human beings alone. She had powers she did not know. All the earth spirits were afraid, for they knew the powers of Nanaboozhoo.

His mother disappeared into the air the instant he was born, so Nanaboozhoo lived with the old woman he called Grandmother. They lived alone on the shore of Lake Superior.

As he grew older, Nanaboozhoo helped his grandmother. He brought her fish and mushrooms and wild roots.

One day, when he was a young man, Nanaboozhoo asked his grandmother; "What is the greatest fish in the lake?"

"Do not ask me that question," she replied, "for he is a very large fish who could do much harm!"

Nanaboozhoo asked, "Can he not be killed and eaten like other fish?"

"No," his grandmother replied, "for he lives deep in the water off the edge of that cliff. No one has ever had the wisdom to reach him. He is very powerful!"

Nanaboozhoo thought a long time about the great fish. He climbed to the top of the cliff and sat for many days. He started down from Lake Superior. Then, suddenly, one day the Wind spoke, and he climbed back down from the cliff.

Nanaboozhoo fashioned a great bow of ash and an arrow of cedar to kill the fish.

Then Nanaboozhoo went to his grandmother and asked, “Grandmother; do you know of any bird whose feathers will make this arrow fly forcefully?”

“You are impertinent,” she scolded. “The only bird is one who lives in the sky beyond that cloud. You would have to go there to get the feathers you want.”

Nanaboozhoo had to have those feathers. He went again to the top of the cliff to find a way to get them. After a time, the shadow of a great eagle-like bird passed over him. It was Thunderbird.

Nanaboozhoo, being very artful, changed into a small rabbit. The bird swooped to kill him.

“Thunderbird, stop!” cried Nanaboozhoo. “Am I not truly an artful little creature? Would I not make a good playmate for your fledglings?”

Thunderbird landed next to Nanaboozhoo. Truly, he was a clever rabbit. He said, “I will not kill you. Instead I will bring you to my children to be their playmate.”

Then Thunderbird swept Nanaboozhoo away to his nest in the sky.

When he got to the nest, Thunderbird said to his fledglings, “I have brought you a very clever rabbit to play with.” And he gave them the rabbit.

His wife said, “Do you not know Nanaboozhoo the man-spirit is on the earth? Are you so foolish that you bring him here? Why did you bring this rabbit?”

Then Nanaboozhoo pretended to sleep and he let the fledglings do what they wanted to him. Thunderbird said, “Is he not truly an artful creature, after all? You mustn’t worry about this rabbit.”

Thunderbird and his wife were seldom at their nest, as they were hunting food for their children. Nanaboozhoo suddenly said to himself one day, “These brats treat me as though I am just a plaything. Don’t they know I have come to take their feathers?”

Nanaboozhoo changed back to a human being. The little thunderbirds shrieked. Quickly Nanaboozhoo stripped their feathers from them.

Nanaboozhoo actually took more feathers than he needed to make his arrow fly with force. Now the fledglings would never fly. He tied the feathers in a bundle and jumped away from the nest.

Because he was a man-spirit, Nanaboozhoo was not hurt when he came to the ground. Then he heard the sky open. It was father the Wind.

Suddenly, there was horrible lightning. It was the flashing eyes of the thunderbirds. Thunder boomed over the earth. It was the thunderbirds’ voices. The thunderbirds sped at Nanoboozhoo with their talons.

Nanaboozhoo clutched the bundle of feathers he had stolen. He would never give it up. He ran this way and that to get away from the thunderbirds. Even though he was a man-spirit, Nanaboozhoo feared he would die.

The booming and flashing, the blowing and crashing, finally caused Nanaboozhoo to tire. He grew perplexed.

Then, quickly, Nanaboozhoo crawled inside a hollow birch tree that had fallen. The talons of the thunderbirds almost got him. The hollow birch tree saved his life.

The thunderbirds boomed, “Our king-child, the birch tree, has offered you its protection! Now we cannot touch you!” And, indeed, Nanaboozhoo had fled to the protection of one of their very own children. Now he was safe from the thunderbirds.

Their eyes flickered off toward the heavens. Their voices faded. The Wind rolled away towards the clouds and left Nanaboozhoo in a wake of tears that was rain dripping from the leaves.

Then Nanaboozhoo stepped out of the log. He was changed.
Nanaboozhoo said, “From now on, human beings will find protection of this tree useful in many ways. Anyone standing under it will find shelter from lightning and storms.

“Its bark will make their lodges.
Their food will not spoil in it.
And it will have many more uses.

But,” Nanaboozhoo said, “anyone using the bark of a birch tree will make generous offerings to it”

Thus the birch tree was blessed by Nanaboozhoo, and he left all the feathers of his bundle inside the hollow log except for those which he needed to fix his arrow and kill the great fish.
Then the man-spirit went to the shore of Lake Superior and killed the great fish.

To this day, human beings will find the marks of Nanaboozhoo in the tree’s bark. They are little dashes. They will also find the little patterns of the little thunderbirds.

--from Mark Sakry, "Naniboujou and the Thunderbirds," Lake Superior Magazine, October-November, 1992.

permalink:
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active link:
http://north-link.net/cmsakry/1pub/9211lsm.htm

Symbolism of Eagle Feathers, A Lumbee Legend

In the beginning, the Great Spirit above gave to the animals and birds wisdom and knowledge and the power to talk to men. He sent these creatures to tell man that he showed himself through them. They would teach a chosen man sacred songs and dance, as well as much ritual and lore.

The creature most loved by the Great Spirit was the eagle, for he tells the story of life. The Eagle, as you know, has only two eggs, and all living things in the world are divided into two. Here is man and woman, male and female and this is true with animals, birds, trees, flowers and so on. All things have children of two kinds so that life may continue. Man has two eyes, two hands, two feet and he has a body and soul, substance and shadow.

Through his eyes, he sees pleasant and unpleasant scenes, through his nostrils he smells good and bad odors, with his ears he hears joyful news and words that make him sad. His mind is divided between good and evil. His right hand he may often use for evil, such as war or striking a person in anger. But his left hand, which is near his heart, is always full of kindness. His right foot may lead him in the wrong path, but his left foot always leads him the right way, and so it goes; he has daylight and darkness, summer and winter, peace and war, and life and death.

In order to remember this lesson of life, look to the great eagle, the favorite bird of the Great Spirit. The eagle feather is divided into two parts, part light, and part dark. This represents daylight and darkness, summer and winter, peace and war, and life and death. So that you may remember what I have told you, look well on the eagle, for his feathers, too, tell the story of life.

Look at the feathers I wear upon my hand, the one on the right is large and perfect and is decorated; this represents man. The one on my left is small and plain; this represents woman. The eagle feather is divided into two parts, dark and white. This represents daylight and darkness, summer and winter. For the white tells of summer, when all is bright and the dark represents the dark days of winter.

My children, remember what I tell you. For it is YOU who will choose the path in life you will follow -- the good way, or the wrong way.

Addik Kum Maig or the Origin of the Whitefish -- Taken from the collection of legends compiled by Henry R. Schoolcraft

A long time ago, there lived a famous hunter in a remote part of the North. He had a handsome wife and two sons, who were left in the lodge every day while he went out in quest of the animals upon whose flesh they subsided. Game was very abundant in those days, and his exertions in the chase were well rewarded. The skins of the animals furnished them with clothing, and their flesh with food. They lived a long distance from any other lodge and very seldom saw anyone.

The two sons were still too young to follow their father to the chase, and usually diverted themselves within a short distance of the lodge. They noticed that a young man visited the lodge during their father's absence and these visits were frequently repeated. At length, the elder of the two said to his mother, "My mother, who is this tall young man that comes here so often during our father's absence? Does he wish to see him? Shall I tell him when we comes back this evening?"

"Bad boy," said the mother petishly. "Mind your bow and arrows, and do not be afraid to enter the forest in search of birds and squirrels with your little brother. It is not manly to be ever about the lodge. Nor will you become a warrior if you tell all the little things you see and hear to your father. Say not a word to him on the subject."

The boys obeyed, but as they grew older and still saw the visits of this mysterious stranger, they resolved to speak again to their mother and tell her that they meant to inform their father of all they had observed, for they frequently saw this young man passing through the woods and he did not walk to the path, nor did he carry anything to eat. If he had any message to deliver, they had observed that messages were always addressed to the men, and not to the woman.

At this, the mother flew into a rage. "I will kill you," she said, "if you speak of it."

They were again intimidated to hold their peace. But observing the continuance of an improper intercourse, kept up by stealth, as it were, they resolved at last to disclose the whole matter to the father. They did so. The result was such as might have been anticipated. The father, being satisfied as to the infidelity of his wife, watched for a suitable occasion when she was seperated from the children that they may not have their feelings excited, and with a single blow of war club, dispatched her. He then buried here under the ashes of his fire, took down the lodge, and removed, with his two sons, to a distant position.

But the spirit of the woman haunted the children, who were now grown up to the estate of young men. She appeared to them as they returned from hunting in the evening. They were also terrified in their dreams, which they attributed to her. She harassed their imaginations wherever they went. Life became a scene of perpetual terrors. They resolved, together with their father, to leave the country and commenced a journey toward the south. After traveling many days along the shores of Lake Superior, they passed around a high promontory of rock where a large river issued out of the lake and soon after came to a place called Pauwateeg (Sault Ste. Marie).

They had no sooner come in sight of these falls than they beheld the skull of the woman rolling along the beach. They were in the utmost fear and knew not how to elude her. At this moment, one of them looked out and saw a stately crane sitting on a rock in the middle of the rapids. They called out to the bird, "See, grandfather, we are persecuted by a spirit. Come and take us across the falls so that we may escape her."

This crane was a bird of extraordinary size and great age. When first described by the two sons, he sat in a state of stupor in the midst of the most violent eddies. When he heard himself addressed, he stretched forth his neck with great deliberation, and lifting himself by his wings, flew across to their assistance.

"Be careful," said the crane, "that you do not touch the back part of my head. It is sore, and should you press against it, I shall not be able to avoid throwing you both into the rapids."

They were however, attentive on this point, and were safely landed on the south shore of the river.

The crane then resumed his former position in the rapids. But the skull now cried out. "Come, my grandfather, and carry me over, for I have lost my children and am sorely distressed."

The aged bird flew to her assistance. He carefully repeated the injunction that she must by no means touch the back part of his head, which had been hurt and was not yet healed. She promised to obey, but soon felt a curiosity to know where the head of her carrier had been hurt, and how so aged a bird could have received so bad a wound. She thought it strange, and before they were halfway over the rapids, could not resist the inclination she felt to touch the affected part.

Instantly the crane threw her into the rapids. "There," said he. "You have been of no use during your life; you shall now be changed into something for the benefit of the people, and it shall be called Addik Kum Maig."

As the skull floated from rock to rock, the brains were strewed in the water in a form resembling roes, which soon assumed the shape of a new species of fish, possessing a whiteness of color and peculiar flavor, which have caused it, ever since, to be in great repute with the Indians.

The family of this man, in gratitude for their deliverance, adopted the crane as their totem, or ancestral mark; and this continues to be the distinguishing tribal sign of the band to this day.

Anishinaabe Ikwe

I am the mountain among the hills,

I am the sweetgrass among the flowers
and the vast heavens beyond the stars.

I am the strong one among the weak,

I am the vision among the dreams
and the mother among the children.

I am the ocean among the rains,

I am the fire of time
and the four seasons among the days.

I am the warmth upon Mother Earth
Who’s chosen and favored and cherished
because I am Anishinaabe Ikwe!

Sydney Martin, Miin Giizis (July) 1997