Statement on Indigenous language revitalization

I had the opportunity to celebrate the provincial government’s commitment to Indigenous language revitalization. I thank BCNDP MLA Bowinn Ma for her powerful response. This is a transformative step in our long journey of reconciliation.

[Transcript]

Adam Olsen

My name is SȾHENEP. I grew up in the WJOȽEȽP village of the WSÁNEĆ people. I’m the son of Sylvia Snobelen and [SENĆOŦEN was spoken], Carl Olsen; the grandson of Don and Phyllis Snobelen and [SENĆOŦEN was spoken] and Laura Bartleman and [SENĆOŦEN was spoken], Ernie Olsen.

When my colleague from Oak Bay–Gordon Head and I met the incredible team of Indigenous language warriors at the First Peoples Cultural Council on Friday, my Uncle STOLȻEȽ, John Elliott, was there. He told us that SENĆOŦEN, the language of the WSÁNEĆ, was given to us from the Creator. It was a gift from the Creator. It gave us our law and showed us how to live in a good way in our territory.

It was how we communicated with everything around us. It was that way since forever in WSÁNEĆ. But, as we know, things changed in our territory. A dark cloud has hung over us. The law was broken. SENĆOŦEN was attacked.

In the summary report of Sen. Murray Sinclair’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, it states:

“Cultural genocide is the destruction of those structures and practices that allow a group to continue as a group. States that engage in cultural genocide set out to destroy the political and social institutions of that targeted group. Land is seized, and populations are forcibly transferred, and their movement is restricted. Languages are banned. Spiritual leaders are persecuted, spiritual practices are forbidden, and objects of spiritual value are confiscated and destroyed. And, most significantly to the issue at hand, families are disrupted to prevent the transmission of cultural values and identity from one generation to the next.”

This was the most destructive work of the residential schools and Indian day schools. These schools beat, abused and neglected Indian children. The goal was to systematically destroy every connection to what they saw as savage, godless cultures. An essential feature of this work was to remove Indigenous languages.

The identity of a people is closely related to our territory, our home, and it can only be described using our language, our words. Across our province, most of our history has been captured and maintained through words; that is to say it is an unwritten history.

The theft of our languages weakened our culture and left our communities exposed to new kinds of trauma. The trauma is felt by everyone in every one of our communities. It is felt by every one of our relatives. It has challenged even the strongest. The trauma of a ministry official tearing a newborn baby from her mother’s nipple, to prop up some despicable baby industry that has been quietly operating since the Sixties Scoop. You know, we don’t want to lose our children. We don’t want our babies stolen from our communities.

The trauma of lack of adequate housing and government policy that limits the ability to get proper housing — housing that is full of mould and overcrowded. You know, we don’t want to be the most homeless people in our society. The trauma of a seemingly endless list of suicides: our mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, our cousins, nieces, nephews, aunties and uncles — losing faith and feeling hopeless. You know, we don’t want to feel hopeless. We don’t want to take our own lives.

The trauma of incarceration and a lack of justice. Murderers and abusers of Indigenous people walking free while the same story in a different town has a different result. Meanwhile, the prison population is overwhelmingly Indigenous. You know, we don’t want to be imprisoned.

We don’t need more police or a forceful approach to address the deep-seated social ills that have come from our trauma of being displaced from our homes, taken from our parents and grandparents, stripped of our language and our identity, becoming a foreigner in our own home.

The attempts to cleanse British Columbia of more than 30 Indigenous languages did not entirely succeed. While many languages and dialects are extinct, last uttered from the lips of passing elders, many have been rescued from the edge of extinction by modern-day linguistic heroes.

Indigenous people are resilient, our leaders are strong, and we have survived a deep trauma. These heroes worked through the pain of their experiences. They overcame punishment and humiliation and never forgot the words our ancestors used to describe our territory, our way of life, our connection to our home.

Government inherits decisions of the past. We inherit them when we swear an oath to serve and protect the honour of the Crown. Frankly, there has been so much to dishonour it. As Senator Sinclair said:

“The government spent so much time trying to exterminate our language and culture, it’s important it take the time to re-establish language and culture as a foundation for the future.”

It is within this context that I celebrate the government’s transformative investment in the restoration of Indigenous languages. From my perspective, it is the most substantial step taken so far in our long journey of reconciliation.

I have witnessed the overwhelmingly positive impact of the restoration of language. Our own language, SENĆOŦEN, was nearing extinction, and our grandparents worked to preserve it. We now have a thriving SENĆOŦEN immersion program at ȽÁU,WELṈEW̱ School in WJOȽEȽP. Our youth are coming alive, reconnecting with their ancestors and their history, their territory and culture through language. It is exactly as Senator Sinclair suggested. It is a foundation for the future.

Finally, this provincial government has deployed different tactics from the past. Today I celebrate our government for starting from the beginning and recognizing that providing the resources for Indigenous people not only improves the lives and well-being of our relatives but indeed the lives of all British Columbians.

Bowinn Ma:

I want to begin by thanking the member for Saanich North and the Islands for putting into words what I can only begin to appreciate as someone who is not indigenous to these lands. The passion that he has brought to this discussion cuts through the misunderstanding around the importance of Indigenous languages in a way that I could never. So I will add what I can to support his words.

There was a suggestion made some weeks ago in this place that we should take the money that the provincial government has committed to investing into the revitalization of Indigenous languages and redirect it into policing for First Nations communities. I will be frank. When I heard this suggestion, I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed for the member who had said it. I was embarrassed for myself as someone who perhaps might have thought similar thoughts out of ignorance. And I was embarrassed for our society.

Now, do not misunderstand me. I say this not to disparage the member. I believe that the comment came from a place of compassion, from someone who has had harrowing experiences that he had to endure in his former life as an officer of the law, which leads him to believe what he does. I respect his experiences and his personal perspective.

My fear is that the argument that is being used to defend his statements, which so many settlers, like me, might not know better than to agree with, means that there is still a level of ignorance around the importance of revitalizing Indigenous languages that cannot be left to stand.

I don’t speak an Indigenous language so I will use an example in my traditional language to share with the House today. My English name is Bowinn Ma, but in Chinese, it’s Ma Bo Wen. Ma literally translates as “horse,” which is the family name, and Bo Wen literally translates to “plentiful script.” But what it means can be roughly translated as “ocean of knowledge” or “broad scholar.” It means someone who has a broad understanding of many things and someone who has the wisdom to use this knowledge in a good way.

It represents what my parents and grandparents had hoped I would become as an adult. In English, my name is just a name, a series of sounds used to identify me. But in my traditional language, those two simple syllables are a culmination of all of the hopes and dreams that my family have had of me since my birth — aspirations that could never truly be translated properly across cultures in as succinct a way.

You see, the revitalization of Indigenous languages is not simply an exercise in translating words. It’s the beginning of the healing of cultures, through which an expression of world view emanates. It speaks to a person’s core identity. Ideas, values, feelings, aspirations, hopes and dreams are communicated in ways that sometimes cannot be done in any other way. It’s about grounding a person; tearing down the walls of isolation; reconnecting them to their ancestors, their community, their family, their environment, their Creator and, indeed, even themselves.

The positive impact of this cultural healing is real, and it is documented. I want to share with the House today what a young Squamish woman had said to me about this topic. Her name is Taylor George-Hollis, and she says: “The revitalization of Indigenous languages is vital to keeping our spirit alive. Speaking Squamish, I am aware that my ancestors hear me clearer than speaking English. The Squamish language, my language, is tied to the land, water, air and all beings. I look forward to the day I share the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh sníchim and Nuu-chah-nulth with my future children, as it shows that through our resilience, love and passion for our children, we are not assimilated peoples.”

There is an urgent need here when it comes to walking the talk on a road towards reconciliation. It starts with recognizing that, as settlers, as benefactors of colonialism on this land, we were the problem for these First Nations. Our ways were the problem. Government’s use of law enforcement to tear children away from their families and prevent Indigenous peoples from accessing their language and culture was the problem. Our ways will continue to be the problem if we do not learn from this.

I stand firmly by our government’s decision to invest $50 million into the urgent revitalization of Indigenous languages. [Sḵwxwú7mesh was spoken.]

Adam Olsen:

We know the power of language. This place knows the power of language well. We’ve weaponized it. Government is built on words. Political careers are built on just a few well-placed, well-delivered words. Effective election campaigns are carefully constructed on a platform of words that convey a compelling message. To a great extent, words and language are our business. It is a perilous business, as we all know, because years, months, weeks, days, hours of perfect execution can be undone in just a split second of a careless utterance.

We all remember, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country,” or, “I’m not a crook,” or: “Yes We Can.” Powerful orators have inspired millions of people to rise up through their words, the pauses between them, their pace and the stories that inspired us, that make our heart race or our blood boil or that give us the calm, contented confidence in their leadership.

Take our language from us, take it from the people in this place, and what do we have left? We have nothing. If our society, our law, our understanding of the world around us is built on our language, then the most destructive thing that one people can do to another is to steal it away, to attempt to purge it, to cut our tongues from our mouths.

It may not be visible to everyone in this place, but language revitalization is happening. It’s having a tremendous impact in our Indigenous communities. As [SENĆOŦEN was spoken] says, “Our language, SENĆOŦEN, was given to us by our Creator. It was our law. It was the way we communicated with every living thing in our territory.”

In WSÁNEĆ we know there is a different way. The restoration of language is working, and we’re eager to share it. I’m not naive. I know there are problems. I’ve lived amongst them my entire life. But we are optimistic. We are excited. I raise my hands to this government for recognizing it and investing in it. HÍSWḴE SIÁM.