Thread. My language learning continues. If you've heard me talk about it before you'll know I've been trying to learn Anishinaabemowin (language of the people whose land I live on and my daughters are born of) & lately Cree (language of my people).

I told my auntie about 10 years ago that I felt like there was a hole inside of me where the language should be. I didn't feel complete. I felt unsettled. I don't know if others can relate to this. But there is this deep feeling like you are forgetting something important.

She said, "listen, you are living among the Anishinaabeg, it will be hard for you to learn Cree where there aren't any Cree speakers, why don't you try to learn Anishinaabemowin since its close to the same language anyway." she said, "It will be doorway into Cree."

And I am still at the beginner phase. I'm a VERY slow learner, but its now, after all this time, starting to come more clearly into view. When people are speaking I can pick out words, I can understand sometimes the jist of what is being said. That is HUGE for me.

That hole where the language should've been is filling in. None of it is easy, but each word learned feels like it gets placed like a puzzle piece into my body. Piece by piece I'm reconstructing my own picture of who I am. Does this even make sense? lol.

People have laughed at the way I've pronounce words. I've laughed at myself a LOT. Mostly I've found its because there are so many slight variations in sound that it changes its meaning it just sounds funny. Many words have double meanings, making the language really funny.

Laughter is a big part of language learning. You have to retrain your entire mouth to form different sounds...so you're bound to come out with some pretty funny sounding things that take on meanings you didn't intend.

People who teach can range from abrupt / rude to really patient and filled with love for you. Its really hard when you don't feel confident to begin with and all of a sudden a language teacher is snippy. Its hard not to take it personal.

But I try to remember in those instances that they love their language, that's why they are there. They want the language to be learned.

Learning your ancestral language also brings you to a huge thick, almost impenetrable colonial wall. As you learn, you realize how much you don't know. And the loss of the language in you, you realize, is also the loss of ancestral knowledge.

It makes you angry. There is such a feeling of injustice. Like "Why the hell should I have to do all this work to relearn my language since the reason I don't know it is because of the forced assimilation and genocide of Indigenous people by colonizers?"

fuck!

And this wall stands in the middle of you and all the fluent language speakers. And somehow you have to climb over it. They throw you a rope. And up you scale. Falling off over and over. Learning the words like they were indentations on the bricks and mortar. You get your footing

And suddenly you take another look at it, and the wall doesn't seem so big. It doesn't seem so thick. There are holes in it. And you get excited, like maybe this wall colonializers built is gonna come down once and for all.

And if not me, then the future generations will take it down. And that gives you hope. Our languages aren't dying. They are just in the process of removing the wall.