Post by blackcrowheart on Dec 23, 2005 22:53:18 GMT -5
Nome congregation keeps native language alive in ministry
www.wfn.org/2005/12/msg00192.html
By Lilla Marigza
NOME, Alaska (UMNS) - A familiar tune flows from a little church in one
of the most remote areas of the United States. Nome is 539 miles north
of Anchorage and accessible only by air.
Outside the Community United Methodist Church, snow falls and doesn't
melt for most of the year. Daylight sometimes lasts only a few hours.
But the coldest of winter is a special time here. On this day the choir
is practicing "O Come All Ye Faithful." Christmas is filled with
familiar hymns sung in a language centuries old. The choir is keeping a
threatened language alive.
"To young people it's a very difficult language now," says 77-year-old
Esther Bourdon, a Native Alaskan. She grew up speaking Inupiaq in Wales,
an Inupiat village on the most western point of the Alaskan Seward
Peninsula. Natives say that on a clear day you can see Russia from
there. The Inupiat parishioners of the church sing their language in the
Wales dialect.
Spanning hundreds of years of Eskimo culture and tradition, the Inupiaq
language is one of the most challenging in the world to learn. Few
Native Alaskans know this ancestral tongue anymore. "They don't speak
it. And here they were having a hard time trying to say words," Bourdon
says.
Inupiaq encompasses a family of dialects that is recognized in parts of
Alaska, Canada, Greenland and Siberia. The Inupiat people are hunters
and fishers who live in small communities that have a strong culture of
storytelling and singing. The language often reflects the close ties
within family and community and their connection to the land and
wildlife.
When Bureau of Indian Affairs schools were established by the U.S.
government, the language was not allowed to be spoken, and the children
learned English. The threat of severe disciplinary action persuaded them
to disregard their native language. Inupiaq was reserved for speaking at
home.
Another factor that has endangered the culture was the Flu Epidemic of
1918. When it hit the area, many of the elders in Inupiat villages died
and took the cultural stories, dances and songs with them.
Bourdon says in her 50 years at this church, three pastors have embraced
and learned to speak the language of some of Alaska's native people. The
church has about 35 active members, about two-thirds of whom are native,
but its total number of participants is double that size.
When the Revs. John and Debbie Pitney were assigned to the Community
United Methodist Church in 1981, they decided to learn as much of the
language as they could. Half of the small congregation was native at the
time.
"Language is everything," John Pitney explains. "Language is the primary
way that culture is passed on. We did our part to keep that going." He
is currently on staff at First United Methodist Church in Eugene, Ore.,
where Debbie serves as senior pastor.
"It is a rhythmic language to me," Pitney says. "Words and sounds are
spoken further back in the throat, and I remember it being spoken fairly
softly."
The language centered on survival, he says. "It was the key. Everything
about the Inupiat villages was about survival, and that was a
fundamental value." For instance, he recalls that there are nearly 40
Inupiaq words to describe snow and its various qualities.
The Pitneys say they were never fully conversant in the language, but
John learned enough to translate several hymns, compiling a book that is
used today by the church choir. After the Pitneys left Nome, the Rev.
Bob Bowers published a second edition.
The Rev. Lucile Barton is the current pastor of Community United
Methodist Church. Barton says the congregation continues to refine the
collection. "We sing the Doxology in Inupiaq most of the time, and
Esther translates a portion of the Gospel reading each Sunday as well,"
Barton says.
A California native, Barton continues to learn the language of the
congregation she serves. "It's been a really learning, growing
experience for me to live in this culture."
Translating hymns into Inupiaq has not been easy, since it is primarily
a spoken language that doesn't lend easily to printed text. "It has
sounds that we don't use in English and you have to listen carefully and
learn to repeat those sounds and also when it's written the words get
very, very long," Barton notes.
The hymnal collection has grown and been fine-tuned by church members.
"We still find that there are songs where we are singing along and
they'll go, 'Oh, that's not right.'" Barton would like to see more
translated songs. "There are other songs that Esther and Polly (Koweluk,
Esther's sister) and some of the others know, that we don't have written
down, but we don't have very many people who can write (the language)."
The current collection is compiled in a loose-leaf church hymnal.
The Inupiaq choir is something special, and the people of Nome know it.
The group is often asked to sing at special events and funerals of
native Alaskans. Barton is the only non-native in the 10-person choir.
Barton says it is an honor to sing at funerals, but it's also a reminder
that the choir keeps a culture alive. "There have been a number of
people during the six and a half years I have been here who have died,
and I have looked at the group and wondered if we were going to be able
to continue it. It's been really exciting to me to see some young people
begin to participate in the choir and learn to sing these translated
songs."
*Marigza is a freelance producer in Nashville, Tenn.
News media contact: Jan Snider or Fran Coode Walsh, Nashville, Tenn.,
(615) 742-5470 or newsdesk@umcom.org.
www.wfn.org/2005/12/msg00192.html
By Lilla Marigza
NOME, Alaska (UMNS) - A familiar tune flows from a little church in one
of the most remote areas of the United States. Nome is 539 miles north
of Anchorage and accessible only by air.
Outside the Community United Methodist Church, snow falls and doesn't
melt for most of the year. Daylight sometimes lasts only a few hours.
But the coldest of winter is a special time here. On this day the choir
is practicing "O Come All Ye Faithful." Christmas is filled with
familiar hymns sung in a language centuries old. The choir is keeping a
threatened language alive.
"To young people it's a very difficult language now," says 77-year-old
Esther Bourdon, a Native Alaskan. She grew up speaking Inupiaq in Wales,
an Inupiat village on the most western point of the Alaskan Seward
Peninsula. Natives say that on a clear day you can see Russia from
there. The Inupiat parishioners of the church sing their language in the
Wales dialect.
Spanning hundreds of years of Eskimo culture and tradition, the Inupiaq
language is one of the most challenging in the world to learn. Few
Native Alaskans know this ancestral tongue anymore. "They don't speak
it. And here they were having a hard time trying to say words," Bourdon
says.
Inupiaq encompasses a family of dialects that is recognized in parts of
Alaska, Canada, Greenland and Siberia. The Inupiat people are hunters
and fishers who live in small communities that have a strong culture of
storytelling and singing. The language often reflects the close ties
within family and community and their connection to the land and
wildlife.
When Bureau of Indian Affairs schools were established by the U.S.
government, the language was not allowed to be spoken, and the children
learned English. The threat of severe disciplinary action persuaded them
to disregard their native language. Inupiaq was reserved for speaking at
home.
Another factor that has endangered the culture was the Flu Epidemic of
1918. When it hit the area, many of the elders in Inupiat villages died
and took the cultural stories, dances and songs with them.
Bourdon says in her 50 years at this church, three pastors have embraced
and learned to speak the language of some of Alaska's native people. The
church has about 35 active members, about two-thirds of whom are native,
but its total number of participants is double that size.
When the Revs. John and Debbie Pitney were assigned to the Community
United Methodist Church in 1981, they decided to learn as much of the
language as they could. Half of the small congregation was native at the
time.
"Language is everything," John Pitney explains. "Language is the primary
way that culture is passed on. We did our part to keep that going." He
is currently on staff at First United Methodist Church in Eugene, Ore.,
where Debbie serves as senior pastor.
"It is a rhythmic language to me," Pitney says. "Words and sounds are
spoken further back in the throat, and I remember it being spoken fairly
softly."
The language centered on survival, he says. "It was the key. Everything
about the Inupiat villages was about survival, and that was a
fundamental value." For instance, he recalls that there are nearly 40
Inupiaq words to describe snow and its various qualities.
The Pitneys say they were never fully conversant in the language, but
John learned enough to translate several hymns, compiling a book that is
used today by the church choir. After the Pitneys left Nome, the Rev.
Bob Bowers published a second edition.
The Rev. Lucile Barton is the current pastor of Community United
Methodist Church. Barton says the congregation continues to refine the
collection. "We sing the Doxology in Inupiaq most of the time, and
Esther translates a portion of the Gospel reading each Sunday as well,"
Barton says.
A California native, Barton continues to learn the language of the
congregation she serves. "It's been a really learning, growing
experience for me to live in this culture."
Translating hymns into Inupiaq has not been easy, since it is primarily
a spoken language that doesn't lend easily to printed text. "It has
sounds that we don't use in English and you have to listen carefully and
learn to repeat those sounds and also when it's written the words get
very, very long," Barton notes.
The hymnal collection has grown and been fine-tuned by church members.
"We still find that there are songs where we are singing along and
they'll go, 'Oh, that's not right.'" Barton would like to see more
translated songs. "There are other songs that Esther and Polly (Koweluk,
Esther's sister) and some of the others know, that we don't have written
down, but we don't have very many people who can write (the language)."
The current collection is compiled in a loose-leaf church hymnal.
The Inupiaq choir is something special, and the people of Nome know it.
The group is often asked to sing at special events and funerals of
native Alaskans. Barton is the only non-native in the 10-person choir.
Barton says it is an honor to sing at funerals, but it's also a reminder
that the choir keeps a culture alive. "There have been a number of
people during the six and a half years I have been here who have died,
and I have looked at the group and wondered if we were going to be able
to continue it. It's been really exciting to me to see some young people
begin to participate in the choir and learn to sing these translated
songs."
*Marigza is a freelance producer in Nashville, Tenn.
News media contact: Jan Snider or Fran Coode Walsh, Nashville, Tenn.,
(615) 742-5470 or newsdesk@umcom.org.