Every word counts
We need your help! Today is a very special day. This Friday is International Mother Language Day. I recently gave a speech to an audience and spoke about the demise and rise of the Irish language. It was titled “What the Focail.” This blog will examine the fall after the famine, the current challenges facing the Irish language, and remind us that a language only dies when you stop speaking it. Before continuing, I ask you to step into the shoes of a language outside the ones you know.
Historical Context:
You see, every 40 days an indigenous language dies somewhere in the world. You may be wondering why this concerns you. Sure, we all speak very good English.
Irish is a language spoken by teachers, preachers, poets, outlaws, dreamers, and schemers. In the 1800s, it was spoken by most of the inhabitants of the Emerald Isle. As we travel back to 1847, we remember when one crop failed, one million people emigrated, and sadly, one million people died of starvation.
There was only one language that could have saved the Gaelic speakers. Historians can attribute the cause to the fallout from the Penal Laws, agrarian disturbances of 1798, and the popularity of the printing press. The fact that there were famines before this in Europe and Ireland isn’t as widely documented due to the lack of paper, education, or written evidence. An abolished parliament in Dublin in 1800 and the Act of Union, saw the wealthy fill their pockets and forgot the disenfranchised Catholic majority. Sadly, during this time, Irish exports did not even drop by 1%.
According to the UN, a crime committed with the intent to destroy a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group, in whole or in part, constitutes a genocide. It does not include political groups or so-called “cultural genocide.” There was no crime committed according to Westminster, as laissez-faire approach to governance resulted in the fallout of the Potato Famine . Be under no illusion—the famine was a genocide of an impoverished people. During that time, food, resources, and produce were shipped and exported from Ireland in the name of the British Empire. Sadly, yet unsurprisingly, during this time, Irish exports did not even drop by one percent. If you took the soup provided by Quaker kitchens, renounced the Mac or O in your name, changed your religion, or spoke a little English, your chances of survival were raised.
One may say this was a one-off until you examine English foreign policy at this time and explore incidents such as the Bengal Rice Famines in India, where ten times as many lives perished due to the theft of food.
Personal Anecdotes:
In times such as this, the survival instinct kicks in. Just three fields away from my home, a family is buried in the ruins of their cottage. Unable to be buried on consecrated ground due to a homicide, after years of malnutrition and failed potato harvests, one man ended the life of his three kids and wife. Before departing this world outside the statistic of one million, he was not concerned with the preservation of his language, culture, or life due to the failure of one crop. This is one story of murder and suicide among the millions of other souls whose bodies and bones scatter the countryside.
Afterward, as a nation, we began to realize the importance of language to preserve identity. Of course, after the shock, trauma, and depletion in the Irish population—which has never recovered since then—we coined a saying: TĂr gan teanga, tĂr gan anam. As many souls were lost in the wake of the decisions outlined in the previous paragraphs, the reminder that a country without a language is a country without a soul was reinforced. Furthermore, the displaced Irish diaspora faced massive injustice and discrimination up until the 1950s in many parts of the world.
Infamous outlaws like Billy the Kid, a fluent Irish speaker, and Ned Kelly, who had Irish roots, were also lost souls. Far from home and misunderstood, the message was always that your language is no use around here.
Current Challenges:
Around the world, we see minorities filling the prison systems. Indigenous peoples around the world without a language are forlorn. Many people in these communities have a much higher representation in statistical information regarding addiction to alcohol and drugs, and they are more prone to lives of crime. They attempt to dull their loss of identity and forget the injustices committed against their ancestors who survived. A quote by Nelson Mandela best sums up why large investment and efforts to support marginalized groups are essential: “If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.”
To speak to a person in their mother tongue magically speaks to their heart. If you don’t believe me, try it. Every word makes a difference. That’s why we call the creation of words “spelling.”
Often, when something is no longer economically valuable, its worth depreciates. In the same way, economic gain brings personal pain. There are nuances and ways of expression older than the pyramids in Ireland. As Gaeilge, tá brón orm means “I’m sorry.” However, its direct translation means “sadness is upon me.” It’s as if a native speaker could deal with the challenges and efforts to preserve the language by knowing instinctively that this too shall pass. It’s not part of me. Place names leave clues. Tallow, my homeland, and some of the surrounding towns completely lost their meaning when anglicized. Tulach an Iarainn is a mound of iron. Tallow is a fat substance used in candles. On the peripheries of this plantation town, my ancestors struggled in the hills, keeping some words alive. The names of fields, old sayings, and words lived on even after Cromwell and Raleigh claimed all lands as their own. In Perth, we see the Matagarup Bridge as a symbol of coexistence. It’s great to see that so many places retain their Whadjuk Noongar names. Koolbinia is a native word for mistletoe. In Melbourne, Yarra was the native word for river.
In the same way a language becomes lost, it can be found. The more you focus on what’s missing, the less you see what you have.
The Education System:
For 13-14 years, the Irish education curriculum ensures all students learn Irish for just three hours per week from third class onwards in English speaking primary schools. Ninety-two percent of Irish schools operate through a medium of English. Kids are afraid to speak unless asking for permission to take a toilet break. In this time, the curriculum demands reading, writing, essays, completion of comprehensions, spelling, and grammar. Teachers can often forget one true philosophy: “Is beatha teanga à a labhairt.”
The life of a language is to speak it. We need more trips to the Gaeltacht, we need to understand the Irish words on the road signs. Irish pop culture needs to be promoted all year round and not just given the graveyard shift. The introduction of more Irish movies needs to continue to grow, with the high standard rising steadily. The youth should see it being used. More fun, craic agus spraoi—not just for CoicĂs na Gaeilge.
When teachers and students love what they do, one begins to learn through osmosis.
Another way of looking at this is through the short film Yu Ming Is Ainm Dom (My Name Is Yu Ming). The story begins with a young man living in China deciding to venture to a new country to avoid the monotony of a nine-to-five lifestyle. He set about learning the national language, Gaelic. Six months later, he landed in Ireland, proficient as Gaeilge and ready to learn more. Everywhere he went, he saw the language. Yet nobody spoke it. A language lives or dies in each one of us. You can either give it life or watch it die. It only dies when you stop speaking it.
The story concludes when Yu Ming went to a bar in search of a job. Unable to converse with the Irish barman, Paddy in the corner—played by a young Frank Kelly, who is immortalized by the character Fr. Jack in the sitcom Father Ted—began to converse with him. One piece of encouragement upon finding a welcome environment changed an unlikely speaker’s life.
The 2022 Irish census revealed that 40% of the nation claim they can speak Irish. Yet there was still a barman whose jaw dropped, unable to believe that Paddy could “speak Chinese.”
Call to Action:
Animo+ challenges you all to speak your mother tongue today. Imagine each time you use a word or encourage a person to speak their native tongue. You are not only saving a language but a way of life.
In conclusion, I believe a country without a language is a country without a soul. The life of a language is to speak it. Briain Mac Cárthaigh is ainm dom. Today, will you speak your language or let it drown? Even a word will do. Dèanann gach focail difrĂocht. Every word counts. A language lives or dies inside of you