LIIDLII KUE/FORT SIMPSON
When Dahti Tsetso was young she heard an elder talk about how upset he was that young people were not embracing the language he and previous generations of aboriginals spoke.

Dahti Tsetso, left, holds up a sign encouraging people who speak South Slavey to converse with her. Tsetso is one of 17 students in an Aboriginal Language Revitalization program being offered by the University of Victoria in partnership with the community of Fort Providence and the Dehcho Divisional Education Council. In two months Tsetso has gone from only a few words to being able to speak in full sentences with the help of her mentor, Violet Jumbo, who is also an instructor for the program in Fort Providence. - Andrew Livingstone/NNSL photo

At the time, Tsetso didn't know more than a handful of South Slavey words, even though she had been exposed to Tlicho and Dene language much of her life. The elder spoke only his native Dene tongue, and she listened intently through a translator at what he had to say.

At the time, she said she was offended at how critical the elder was. However, as a grown woman and a mother of two who sees a growing disconnect between the generations and the Dene language, she now understands what the elder meant.

"Language is at the heart of Dene culture," she said in between translating instructions on how to make cupcakes from English to South Slavey. "You can be strong with your culture but if you're missing the language you're missing a big part of it."

Tsetso is one of 17 students currently enrolled in the Aboriginal Language Revitalization program being offered by the University of Victoria in partnership with the community of Fort Providence and the Dehcho Divisional Education Council.

Through funding from the federal government the B.C.-based university has been able to create a program that provides the necessary support structure for students to learn the language. Students who complete the first two years of the program receive a diploma and can use it to pursue an education degree to become certified language instructors.

Students flourishing

Peter Jacobs, an assistant professor in linguistics at the University of Victoria and a course instructor focused on adult language learning methodology, said students who entered the program with limited language capabilities have flourished in the first few months of study.

"From what I observed (of) their ability to talk and converse in two months, the hopes are that they will continue moving forward," he said, adding the work done outside the classroom provides a unique approach to language learning. "When you're learning something like French you're not learning context outside of class, the course helps them find context in their own life and for communication.

"We argue there is a strong connection between the world view and culture of each of our nations and language. Without it, you lose the richness of the culture and the world."

Students enrolled in the program are required to complete 100 hours of conversation with their mentors. Course work is done in the classroom - students are required to complete in-class instruction with facilitators in Fort Providence from the communities and the university - but a large portion is completed outside the classroom in a less formal setting. This, said Violet Jumbo, who is an instructor as well as Tsetso's mentor, is where the best work is done.

When Jumbo began working with Tsetso, she knew only a few words. During a lunch-hour mentoring session, Jumbo and Tsetso converse rather naturally in South Slavey, Tsetso learning the necessary instructions to bake cupcakes. Without using English, Tsetso said she is able to learn by doing, and with the help of phrases in the language, she avoids falling back on English to help her understand.

"They encourage us to not speak in English which helps us build on our vocabulary and confidence," she said, adding the survival phrases they learned to use if they don't know what something is helps them retain the language with ease.

The benefit goes beyond the language itself, said district education council superintendent Terry Jaffray - it trickles into strengthening the community as a whole and improving employment access.

"It supports the whole region because we'll have that many more fluent speakers and they've have gained more confidence and knowledge in Dene language," she said. "Even if they don't become instructors, they'll be more employable because they'll have this additional skill set."

South Slavey speakers declining

According to the territory's 2006 community survey 1,285 people in the territory speak South Slavey, the majority located in the Dehcho region. However, the striking statistic is only 290 were under the age of 35. Nearly half of all speakers were 50 years of age or older according to the survey. With each South Slavey-speaking elder that passes on there is one less person to share the language with young people.

Between 1989 and 2009, the number of people in the Dehcho able to speak South Slavey dropped from 78.6 per cent to 58.2 per cent, an alarming decline that has community leaders and elders worried about the future of the language.

This sharp and continuing decline is of particular concern to the education council, said Jaffray. A big part of the reason the council has lent its support to the University of Victoria Aboriginal Language Revitalization program.

"We have a number of language instructors who are coming up to retirement and we don't have a pool of Aboriginal language instructors ready to jump into the position," she said. "We wanted to facilitate, or be a part of getting students into a language program."

Tsetso hesitates to say the university program is about revitalization. The language has never died, she insists, it has only lay dormant. Many young people in the Dehcho region have grown up around the language their ancestors spoke and have heard their parents or grandparents converse in the language their ancestors spoke long before formal communities existed.

The worry now is not whether it will lay dormant for a short period of time, but permanently.

Given that there are still residents who still speak South Slavey, a number of whom are unilingual, Tsetso said the time for young people to immerse themselves in learning the language is now.

"It's the perfect time to make it stronger instead of letting it get weaker," she said. "This program gives us the tools and challenges us. There is a lot of support in the program for us to succeed."

The perfect partnership

The partnership the education council has with the Dehcho First Nation is one that has a common goal in mind; one that expands far beyond the classroom, said Jaffray.

"We have our specific concern about having qualified language instructors, but we also want to preserve the language and culture moving forward," she said. "We try to support the community by having this program in our school and it just makes it stronger when we have instructors who are confident and it trickles into the community."

Bridging the generational gap between elders and youth in the region is another aspect of life in the Dehcho where the program is having a huge impact. In conversations with elders, Jumbo said many feel isolated because of their limited abilities to speak English, if at all.

"For elders it can be lonely and with this program they're able to connect with younger people," she said. "When everyone is speaking the language, it's good to see the interaction."

Connecting with future generations

When Tsetso was 19-years-old, she told herself that she wanted to learn her native language but at the time, it would have been incredibly difficult to do. Learning a language is challenging and requires strong support and encouragement from a foundational system like the one offered through the University of Victoria.

Without this, she said, it wouldn't have been possible to do. For Jumbo, the idea comes down to an analogy told to her by an elder years ago. Language and culture are like two ropes intertwined together, and without language your rope isn't complete.

"When you have both, the rope is strong and you're able to connect more closely with your culture and traditions," she said.

Tsetso's daughter sat at the counter while her mom and Jumbo worked through the baking instructions. Dahti asks her in South Slavey if she'd like to help. She didn't understand what her mother had said, but for Dahti, she hopes one day she'll be able to have that conversation.

"I feel hopeful that I will be able to share it with my kids," she said.