Fragments of Budderer’s waddy: a new Narungga grammar
Pacific Linguistics 612 Pacific Linguistics is a publisher specialising in grammars and linguistic descriptions, dictionaries and other materials on languages of the Pacific, Taiwan, the Philippines, Indonesia, East Timor, southeast and south Asia, and Australia. Pacific Linguistics, established in 1963 through an initial grant from the Hunter Douglas Fund, is associated with the School of Culture, History and Language in the College of Asia and the Pacific at The Australian National University. The authors and editors of Pacific Linguistics publications are drawn from a wide range of institutions around the world. Publications are refereed by scholars with relevant expertise, who are usually not members of the editorial board.
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Fragments of Budderer’s waddy: A new Narungga grammar
Christina Eira with the Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association
Pacific Linguistics College of Asia and the Pacific The Australian National University Published by Pacific Linguistics School of Culture, History and Language College of Asia and the Pacific The Australian National University Canberra ACT 0200 Australia
Copyright in this edition is vested with Pacific Linguistics
First published 2010
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:
Author: Eira, Christina.
Title: Fragments of Bbudderer's waddy : a new Narungga grammar / Christina Eira with the Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association.
ISBN: 9780858836112 (pbk.)
Subjects: Narangga language--Grammar.
Other Authors/ Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association. Contributors:
Dewey Number: 499.155
Typeset by Julie Manley Cover art by Melina Magdalena, 2007, Artistic representation of Narungga land with Narungga place names, © Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association. Used with permission. Printed and bound by Addcolour Digital Pty Ltd, Fyshwick, Canberra
In memory of Auntie Phoebe Wanganeen, 1925-2007 Nharangga warra wardlinu bammadja. The Narungga language is coming home.
Table of contents
List of tables ...... x Foreword by Lesley Wanganeen ...... xi Acknowledgements ...... xii List of abbreviations ...... xiv Map: Narungga country, Yorke Peninsula ...... xvii
1. Introduction...... 1 1.1 Language renewal – the bigger picture...... 2 1.2 Terminology ...... 3 1.3 Authenticity and change ...... 4 1.4 Processes and priorities ...... 6 1.5 The grammar of a language of renewal ...... 9 1.6 Land, people and language ...... 12 1.7 The language renewal project – processes for decision-making ...... 13 1.8 Current usage...... 17 1.9 Research sources...... 19 1.9.1 Early...... 20 1.9.2 Mission period ...... 20 1.9.3 Intermediate ...... 22 1.9.4 Recent ...... 22 1.9.5 Current ...... 23 1.9.6 Additional sources ...... 24
2. Phonology...... 26 2.1 Bases for analysis ...... 26 2.2 The phoneme inventory ...... 28 2.2.1 Vowels ...... 28 2.2.2 Consonants...... 30 2.3 Allophones...... 34 2.3.1 Voicing of stops...... 34 2.3.2 Retroflexes and ‘r-clusters’...... 35 2.4 Phonological processes...... 35
vii viii Table of contents
2.4.1 ‘d-clusters’ and prestopping ...... 35 2.4.2 ‘r-clusters’ and alveolar/retroflex alternation...... 37 2.4.3 ‘y-clusters’ and palatal/alveolar alternation ...... 37 2.4.4 Conclusions ...... 38 2.5 Stress and phonotactics ...... 39 2.5.1 Stress...... 39 2.5.2 Word and syllable structure...... 39 2.5.3 Syllable boundaries ...... 41 2.6 Morphophonemics...... 42 2.6.1 Compound reduction ...... 42 2.6.2 [%/w] alternation...... 44
3. Orthography...... 45 3.1 Introduction ...... 45 3.2 The basic system ...... 46 3.3 Voicing ...... 47 3.4 Double letters: nonstandardisation and underspecification...... 48 3.4.1 Semi-regular alternations...... 48 3.4.2 Under-determined sounds...... 51 3.5 Conclusions ...... 52
4. Lexicon and word classes ...... 53 4.1 Historical documentation ...... 53 4.1.1 Distribution of the lexicon...... 53 4.2 The expanding lexicon ...... 57 4.3 Filling in the personal pronoun paradigm ...... 57 4.4 Identifying adverbials and adjectivals...... 60 4.4.1 Adverbs...... 60 4.4.2 Adjectives...... 61
5. Morphology ...... 64 5.1 Historical documentation ...... 64 5.2 Noun morphology...... 64 5.2.1 Possessives ...... 64 5.2.2 Plural/mass ...... 66 5.2.3 Allative and purposive...... 67 5.2.4 The question of locatives...... 69 5.2.5 The suffix -na ...... 70 5.2.6 Another affix?...... 72
Table of contents ix
5.3 Bound pronouns...... 72 5.3.1 Narungga records...... 72 5.3.2 Comparative evidence ...... 73 5.4 Verb morphology...... 74 5.4.1 Tense, aspect, mood...... 74 5.4.2 Some possible additional affixes ...... 79 5.5 Word formation (compounds) ...... 80
6. Syntax...... 85 6.1 Language sources and language development...... 85 6.2 The basic structures ...... 86 6.2.1 SOV ...... 86 6.2.2 Phrase structure...... 89 6.3 Questions ...... 91 6.3.1 Wh- questions ...... 91 6.3.2 Yes/No questions...... 92 6.4 Imperatives ...... 93 6.5 Complex constructions and the limits of juxtaposition ...... 93 6.6 Adverbial phrases ...... 95
7. Discourse...... 97 7.1 Register...... 97 7.2 Conversational and other formulae...... 98 7.3 Discursive traditions...... 100
8. Conclusions: authenticity and change in the language revival process ...... 107 8.1 What is a language of revival? ...... 107 8.2 Narungga language reclamation: the story so far ...... 109
Appendix: Texts...... 111 A.1 Historical sentential examples ...... 111 A.2 Recent sentential examples...... 115
References ...... 117
x Table of contents
List of tables Table 2.1: Consonants in contemporary Narungga ...... 31 Table 2.2: Consonants in 19th century Narungga compared with contemporary consonants ...... 32 Table 2.3: Consonants occurring in word-initial position ...... 40 Table 2.4: [%]/[w] alternation...... 44 Table 3.1: Grapheme set: Vowels...... 46 Table 3.2: Grapheme set: Consonants ...... 47 Table 3.3: Nonstandardised treatment of alternations ...... 49 Table 3.4: Double letters used for underspecification purposes...... 51 Table 4.1: Additional word classes...... 56 Table 4.2: Kaurna personal pronouns (ABS and ERG) (A/WK) ...... 58 Table 4.3: Kaurna possessive pronouns (A/WK) ...... 58 Table 4.4: Personal pronouns...... 58 Table 4.5 Possessive pronouns ...... 58 Table 4.6: Roles of adjectival subclass...... 62 Table 4.7 Word class summary ...... 63 Table 5.1: Alienable and inalienable possessives in kin terms: free and bound (representative selection)...... 65 Table 5.2: The plural/mass marker -ri ...... 66 Table 5.3: The suffix -na...... 70 Table 5.4: A proposal for a bound pronoun paradigm...... 74 Table 5.5: -ni, -n and -dja as present tense and imperative markers in Narungga sources (representative selection)...... 75 Table 5.6: Comparative verb morphology...... 76 Table 5.7: -ni and -ru imperatives in Narungga sources...... 78 Table 5.8: Modifier+modified subtypes ...... 81 Table 5.9: Examples of new compounds...... 83
Foreword
For the Narungga people, the revival of their language as fully spoken language continues to be an exciting and rewarding challenge. With no fluent speakers available and no recordings of Narungga language as it was historically spoken, the journey together of all peoples past and present continues to demonstrate their courage and dedication in restoring the Narungga language as part of our today. To ensure support for the revival process, a conscious decision was made by the working group to take the language back to Narungga country and its people for the initial teaching trials. This decision proved to be invaluable, as it stimulated the cultural significance of language, and ownership of the language by its original peoples. Today, language programs are operating across schools and in adult settings, with the language now being spoken fluently in formal ceremonies, a process never before afforded and a clear testament to the success of the program and the revival of a sleeping language. The Narungga language journey has demonstrated, for all those people who have remained dedicated and committed to the process, what can be achieved simply by a desire to right a past injustice. Similarly, the journey has been one of healing and has spiritually refreshed us as a people, strengthened our identity and culturally enriched each individual. This project has therefore been a significant step in the survival of the Narungga language and culture, and provides for our future generations the opportunity to continue the work towards the complete reinstatement of our language to its rightful place – and with it, a greater understanding of identity and culture.
Lesley Wanganeen Project Director, April 2004
xi Acknowledgements
This book is one of the visible results of several years’ dedicated work by many people. It presents not only the linguistic analysis of the documented language, but also the decisions and practices of Narungga people who have been intensively developing, learning, teaching and using their language throughout that time. This book represents the community response to the documents brought together and made fully available through the language renewal project. It is based on policies and decisions carefully worked out by workshop participants, the feedback from adult students in pilot classes, and the implementation of language and language development policies by, first, Tania Wanganeen, then an increasing number of others under her leadership. The larger language renewal project is directed by the Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association (NAPA). The funding for the grammar project itself was provided by AIATSIS (G2002/6640). Other contributing funds were obtained from Tauondi Inc. (adult classes) and Yaitya Warra Wodli (initial major project grants). Below are listed the members of the Project Group, comprising regular participants in the workshops and the adult classes, together with special mention of a few people who have had particular roles in the project. The title of this book is used by permission of Kevin O’Loughlin, a teacher of the Dreaming of Budderer. Nha yunggu. (‘Thankyou all.’) Project Director: Lesley Wanganeen Language Worker and Class Teacher: Tania Wanganeen Consultant Elder: Phoebe Wanganeen Language Project Officer and Support Teacher: Christina Eira Reference Group Members: Phoebe Wanganeen, Michael Wanganeen, Lesley Wanganeen, Kevin O’Loughlin, Alice Rigney, Lester Irabinna Rigney, Rob Amery, Mary-Anne Gale, Chester Schultz. Additional Workshop Participants: Alice Artois-Moss, Lewis O’Brien, Betty Fisher, Lillian Milera, Denise Karpany, Peter Gibson, Kveta Smith, Wayne Milera, Eileen Wanganeen, Moyna Carter, Kym Wanganeen, Ian Turner, Fallon Wanganeen, Brendon Wilson, Keisha Milera. Adult Class Graduates: Lesley Wanganeen, Michael Wanganeen, Alice Rigney, Karen Brine, Shane Warrior, Monique Birkin, Winnie Sansbury, Matthew Sansbury, Paul Sansbury, Garnett Wanganeen.
xii Acknowledgements xiii
NAPA Board of Management (during the grammar project): Gordon Weetra, Lesley Wanganeen, Donald Brine, Shane Warrior, Tania Wanganeen. NAPA Manager: Michael Wanganeen. I would also like to express sincere thanks to the South Australian Museum, the Museum of Victoria and the Mortlock Library of Australiana for access to their archived manuscript collections, to Jane Simpson for her generous provision of research materials, and to John Giacon for his thorough and considerate critique of a late-stage draft. Finally, I am extremely and continuously grateful to all those who, including John Giacon, Paul Paton, Alex Blaszak, Laura ‘Wyrda’ Cook, Tonya Stebbins and Nick Nicholas, have been prepared to listen to my daily angst about language revival issues and help me refine positions, theories and processes as I go. Responsibility for any errors or oversights as well as any misperceptions of community members’ views remains with the author. Furthermore, the grammar, as a component of the renewed language, is a work in progress, so that aspects of the interpretation of and recommendations for the language as represented here will change over the next few years as it is taught, spoken and written in the community, and as a response to further linguistic research.
List of abbreviations
Narungga and cognate sources: A/WK: Amery, Rob (ed.). 1995. Warra Kaurna: A resource for Kaurna language programs. Adelaide: Inbarendi College. (First published 1997, revised 2003.) H/Nu: Hercus, Luise A., 1992. A Nukunu dictionary. Canberra: Luise Hercus with AIATSIS Khn: Kühn, J.W. & Fowler, W. 1886 [c.1880]. ‘Yorke’s Peninsula, South Australia’. In E.M.Curr (compiler) The Australian Race. 2, 67. 143-145 L&GE/J: Johnson, J. Howard, 1930-31. ‘The native tongue: A valuable Refers to all of: vocabulary’. The Pioneer: 26 December 1930, 9 January 1931, 16 January 1931 and manuscript version. Johnson, J. Howard, 1899-1905. Vocabulary, Lower Yorke Peninsula (Collected from George and Louisa Egginton circ. 1899-1905). Manuscript. Mitchell Library B1656 LE/T: Tindale, Norman, 1936. ‘Notes on the Natives of the southern portion of Refers to all of: Yorke Peninsula, South Australia’. Transactions & Proceedings of the Royal Society of SA 60, 55-69 and manuscript version. Tindale, Norman, 1935- . Notes on the Kaurna or Adelaide tribe and the Natives of Yorke Peninsula and the Middle North of South Australia, 1935- . Bound manuscript. N.B. Tindale Collection, South Australian Museum Archives AA338/1/35, together with Supplementary papers. Bound manuscript. Catalogued as Untitled papers. N.B. Tindale Collection, South Australian Museum Archives AA338/2/68 McE: McEntire, Edward, 1879. ‘List of words in the language of the Wallaroo tribe’. In G. Taplin (compiler), The folklore, manners, customs and languages of the South Australian Aborigines. Adelaide: Government Printer McE&McK: McEntee, John, & Pearl McKenzie, 1992. Adynya-math-nha (Adnyamathanha) English dictionary. Adelaide: McEntee & McKenzie
xiv Abbreviationss xv
N&R/B: Black, J.M. 1920. ‘Vocabularies of four South Australian languages— Adelaide, Narrunga, Kukata, and Narrinyeri—with special reference to their speech sounds’. Transactions of the Royal Society of SA 44. 76- 93. (First published in 1919.) NLK: Kirke, Brian, with Gladys Elphick, Phoebe Wanganeen, Doris Graham, Eileen Jovic et al, 1988. Narrunga language kit. Adelaide: ASTEC, SACAE Sch: Schürmann, C.W. 1844. A vocabulary of the Parnkalla language, spoken by the Natives inhabiting the western shores of Spencer’s Gulf, to which is prefixed a collection of grammatical rules, hitherto ascertained. Xerox facsimile. Adelaide: George Dehane S&H: Simpson, Jane, & Luise Hercus, 2004. ‘Thura-Yura as a subgroup’. In Claire Bowern and Harold Koch (eds), Australian Languages: Classification and the comparative method. Philadelphia/Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 179-206 (Appendices 197-226; 582-645) TA/S: Snell, Edward, 1988. The life and adventures of Edward Snell: The illustrated diary of an artist, engineer and adventurer in the Australian colonies 1849 to 1859. Edited and introduced by Tom Griffiths, with Alan Platt. North Ryde, N.S.W.: Angus & Robertson and The Library Council of Victoria T&S: Teichelmann, C.G., and C.W. Schürmann, 1962. Outlines of a grammar, vocabulary and phraseology of the Aboriginal language of South Australia. Facsimile edition. Adelaide: Tjintu Books. (First published in 1840.)
Languages Adn: Adnyamathanha Kau: Kaurna Nuk: Nukunu Morphemic glosses ABS absolutive ADJ adjectival AdvP adverbial phrase ALL allative DU dual ERG ergative HORT hortative INC inclusive IMP imperative INT interrogative INCH inchoative LOC locative NEG negative NOM nominal xvi Abbreviations
OIND indirect object OBJ object PL plural POSS possessive PP prepositional phrase PRES present PST past PURP purposive REDUP reduplication SG singular SUBJ subject TNS tense Miscellaneous FaFa father’s father FaMo father’s mother MoFa mother’s father MoMo mother’s mother xvii Map
Map: Narungga country, Yorke Peninsula Map drawn by Cartography (ANU) from art by Melina Magdalena, 2007, Artistic representation of Narungga land with Narungga place names, © Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association. Used with permission.
1 Introduction
‘The handle lies in pieces on the eastern side…and we see the stone which it formed there still.’ (Budderer’s Rock, as told by Kevin O’Loughlin)
The story of Budderer, a Dreaming trail which encompasses the entire length of Narungga land (Yorke Peninsula, South Australia), offers a powerful metaphor for language revival. In his retelling, Narungga Elder Kevin ‘Dookie’ O’Loughlin takes the learner on a journey through significant events in Budderer’s history and significant features of the land. This culminates in the hurling of Budderer’s waddy, which shatters into fragments across the peninsula and out to sea. Some of the fragments are still visible on the land. Some are under water. Some may be buried, or might have been moved from their original location. Some are lost forever, and can only be reconstructed in their location and form by careful assessment of the pieces that are still evident and creative re-imagining of what must have happened. Similarly, the Narungga language was also fragmented by devastating events in the past. At the time the revival project began in earnest, some fragments were still known in the community. Some were buried in archives from Adelaide to Herrnhut, Germany. Some had become fragmented still further by inadequate recording practices, the strong influence of English and other Aboriginal languages, or fading memories. And some are lost, probably forever. The Narungga language in the present has been pieced together by careful assessment of the fragments known in the community and found in various sources, comparisons with related language data, and creative re-imagining from the past into the future. The present work represents the renewed Narungga language in its initial phase in the first few years of the twenty-first century – a time when a group of speakers and teachers of Narungga was emerging, for the first time in perhaps 80–100 years. It contains the linguistic details of essentially the same information covered in the community resource grammar prepared from 2004–2006 (Wanganeen and Eira 2006). The linguists’ grammar also includes discussion of aspects of language awaiting further research, and incorporates some more recent data to reflect the continued development of the language by its speakers up to the end of 2007. Because of the re-emergent status of the language, it is important to record the grammar established at this early stage. This ensures the provision of a carefully established base for reference, from which the language will develop in the future, in accordance with whatever purposes and in whatever styles are required by its speakers. This grammar is not a reconstruction of ‘old Narungga’, nor an abstracted ideal of ‘pure Narungga’, but a record of the language established in the present for the future. This was
1 2 Chapter 1 achieved, following initial archival and analytical research, through open community workshops over two years, active language use by workshop participants and students of language classes held throughout 2003, and fine-tuning by close consultation between Tania Wanganeen (Senior Language Worker) and myself. In this volume, both the historical evidence and the details of each structure now in use are set out, together with the argumentation which has led to each decision made. It is fully anticipated that the language will continue to change and grow as domains of use and the number of speakers expand. The present work will stand as a record of the fragments of memory left by Narungga Elders of the past, and the initial rebuilding of those fragments by their descendants in the early part of the twenty-first century.
1.1 Language renewal – the bigger picture An increasing number of communities across Australia are becoming engaged in reviving their languages. Language revitalisation work at various levels is in progress in every State and Territory,1 the results of which are increasingly evident in public signage and speeches, naming practices, school curricula and tertiary programs, the appearance of books, CDs and other media about and/or using the languages, and various papers on the subject.2 It is no accident that this surge of effort began to emerge in the years following the 1967 Referendum, which signalled significant support for the recognition of Aboriginal people as members of the Commonwealth of Australia, and stands as a symbol for an emerging consciousness of their political rights. Since then we have seen the steady progression of key milestones such as the Aboriginal Heritage and Native Title Acts (1988 and 1993 respectively), together with procedures and debates arising from these. We have seen the rise and fall of bilingual education, and in the early years of the twenty-first century, a widespread defunding and dismantling of Aboriginal-run organisations. At the time of writing, we are dealing simultaneously with the continuing issues raised by the Northern Territory Intervention and the wide-ranging effects of the National Apology. As part and parcel of this sociopolitical environment, reclaiming language is inseparable from a much bigger set of goals centering on reclaiming cultural strength. Reclaiming language is a reclamation not only of language knowledge and skills, together with the cultural knowledge embedded in language, but also of respect for that knowledge, as the knowledge of individuals, communities and their Elders. It is reclaiming the right to speak on one’s own terms, and be listened to, reclaiming authority over community business, reclaiming identity. It is, as implicit in the Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights, an act of decolonisation: Considering that invasion, colonisation, occupation and other instances of political, economic or social subordination often involve the direct imposition of a foreign language or, at the very least, distort perceptions of the value of languages and give rise to hierarchical linguistic attitudes which undermine the language loyalty of speakers; and considering that the languages of some peoples which have attained sovereignty are consequently immersed in a process of language substitution as a result of a policy which favours the
1 See McKay (1996), McRae (1995) for some additional case studies, or Simpson et al (2008) for a detailed study focussing on South Australia. 2 See Mühlhäusler et al (2004) for a suggested listing of measurable outcomes of language revival. Introduction 3
language of former colonial or imperial powers… (Preliminaries, Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights, Barcelona 1996)3 For these reasons, language renewal is far more than a linguistic exercise. It is fundamentally a community process. No amount of skill and care in archival research and comparative analysis can bring about language renewal. Instead, the renewed language develops within its community, drawing on the human, documented and structural resources available. There will be concrete outcomes in its development, such as publications and teaching programs, but these are not the material of language renewal so much as windows into the re-emerging life of the language. This perspective on language reclamation has very significant ramifications for practices of authority and authorisation in language revival work, as it means that, if it is to be successful, it is not only knowledge of language but, crucially, authority in language which has to be returned to the community: The languages of Australia have been stolen, in the sense that the right and capacity to maintain the knowledge was removed from the communities. The maintenance of this knowledge now is largely restricted to documentation in books, recordings and manuscripts in mainstream institutions. Access to these institutions remains most readily available to academics and to authorities recognised as such within this system. Moreover, it is academic evaluation and analysis of the data which is generally accepted as valid. The task of the linguist, then, is to act as a channel for ensuring that this stolen knowledge and authority flows back to the communities. If we continue to maintain ourselves as the authorities, the keepers of knowledge, then we haven’t ‘returned’ anything. (Eira 2007:84) This notion of what it means to ‘return’ language acts as a fundamental guiding principle that informs the process, theory and methodology of the Narungga language renewal project. I discuss what it means for the grammar of a renewed language in §1.5.
1.2 Terminology Terms including language renewal, revival, revitalisation and reclamation are used variously in this field, but are beginning to settle into established meanings as described in the Australian Indigenous Languages Framework (SSABSA 1996). In this system, language revival is a cover term referring to various forms and approaches to the re- emergence of a language in its community. Language revitalisation implies that the language is still spoken by a number of Elders, so can be learned from them at least in part. Language renewal, however, covers situations in which only words and perhaps some phrases or sentences are known by Elders. Language reclamation refers to a primary reliance on archival sources, as little knowledge remains active within the community. Certainly, within these definitions, the last term is the one appropriate to the Narungga situation. Although some Elders do know some words, the basis for the language is very heavily reliant on the analysis of historical sources. In this book, however, I have tended to use the term language renewal for the most part, as the focus of the work is unquestionably the process of renewing, redeveloping and recreating the language. The Project team has used the term renewal as an overt marker and reminder of the kind of
3 Available at http://www.linguistic-declaration.org/decl-gb.htm. 4 Chapter 1 work and approach needed in the language planning process. I will continue this usage for the present purposes, and hope that this does not give rise to confusion. I will also use the term reclamation when referring to the act of taking back or reclaiming aspects of language or culture, and revival as a general cover term, as above. Throughout this book, I use the terms historical language and contemporary language contrastively. It should be understood that what I mean by the former is not a historical reconstruction through rigorous application of comparative methods, but a more localised assessment of the language in the mid- to late nineteenth century, primarily through extant records (see §1.7). These terms have been used throughout the Project to clarify choices made for the contemporary (that is, renewed) language to accept and/or select features of pronunciation, lexicon et cetera which for one reason or another differ from the indications of the historical record.
1.3 Authenticity and change For a language in process of renewal, issues of change are more in focus even than for other living languages. In the first place, community members are simultaneously learning their language and taking control of its development – both consciously and spontaneously. This is quite different from a neatly ideal scenario in which language learning progresses on the basis of a comprehensive set of lexical, phonological and grammatical understandings, established through careful analysis and synthesis of sources which have then been thoroughly discussed and authorised by the appropriate community representatives. Instead, the analysis, growth in understanding of linguistic and community bases for interpretation, language development, language learning and use, all move forward in interwoven patterns, depending on community priorities, people involved, available time and funding, and other factors. This inevitably means that both linguists and communities have to be prepared to accommodate a degree of ongoing change in the language as it develops, to allow it to incorporate new insights, priorities and understandings at appropriate stages. Giacon (2003 and 2008), for example, explicates detailed areas of further grammatical analysis for Gamilaraay and Yuwaalaraay which are yet to be fully incorporated in language revival activities, while the present volume will identify a number of points where there is potential for further development of Narungga on the basis of comparative analysis. A recurrent topic of debate in regard to change in revival languages is modernisation. While on the one hand, communities are concerned to ensure that the ancientness of their language is restored, together with the cultural knowledge and ways of imaging the world that this entails, on the other hand, many are also committed to a view of their language as living and contemporary, and hence are both comfortable with and motivated about expanding that language’s semantic domains. Amery (2001), Black (1993) and others argue strongly for the validity of lexical elaboration (see also Kaurna terms and phrases for domains such as football in Amery et al forthcoming), while Walsh (2005) notes the differences in opinion as to whether such developments reflect language loss or language vitality. One concern which emerged during a Narungga workshop was to ensure that new words were developed along semantic, cultural and structural principles evidenced in historical records. Other groups have discussed the culturally validated practice of borrowing words from a neighbouring language – for example, for purposes such as euphemism, or to avoid uttering words which are too similar to the name of a recently deceased person. Borrowing from English and adapting the loan to the phonology of the Introduction 5 receiving language, is a third historically validated option, bringing words such as dhiibi ‘sheep’ (Johnson 1899-1905) and dhulya, probably from ‘soldier’ (R. Amery, personal communication), now ‘police officer’ (Wanganeen 1986), into Narungga. Dorian (1994) makes the difficult point that new words derived from the dominant language may hold significantly greater potential for retention in the speaker/learner community, unless words developed from within the language’s own resources are very thoroughly publicised and widely taught. The Narungga dictionary (NAPA 2006) leaves the broader question of acceptability of neologisms to individuals to decide, by including a separate section labelled ‘New words’ – as does the Gamilaraay Yuwaalaraay Yuwaalayaay dictionary (Ash et al 2003). Not only are some of the words of revival languages new, but also idiomatic phrases such as greetings (Walsh 2005, Giacon 2008). Again, this is entirely within normal expectations for a living, contemporary language. Twenty-first century English speakers are not usually interested in wishing their friends ‘God be with you’ as they depart. Here, the phrase has undergone semantic bleaching, and acquired a connotation of a more extended or permanent leave-taking, as indicated by common comparisons with European equivalents such as au revoir. It is not easy to argue for any great difference between this shift in idiomatic meaning and the choice of twenty-first century speakers of renewed languages to greet people with a conventionalised question about their health. Quite apart from the above issues, it is clear that language renewal also involves considerable change at less conscious levels of language – particularly phonology and syntax. That this may well characterise revival languages in general is suggested by Zuckermann’s studies of Israeli Hebrew (Zuckermann 2006 and elsewhere), in which he makes the case for analysing Israeli Hebrew as a hybrid language, comprised of conscious elements such as the lexicon mostly from Hebrew, and subconscious elements such as phonology and intonation mostly from Yiddish (the mother tongue of most of the founder generation). If this is the case for what is surely the most established revival language in the world, it would seem inevitable in languages which are used within an ongoing daily environment of English in almost every domain. It would seem strange to claim, however, that Israeli Hebrew is not a successfully revived language. What we may have in revival languages, then, is an emergent type of language whose pathways of development are different from those of continuously spoken languages, with different relationships between contemporary and heritage language than our current standard notions of a living language can adequately accommodate. This view is supported also in Walsh (2005:304), who points out that the question of survival of Aboriginal languages is in part definitional, ‘hing[ing] crucially on intended outcomes’.4 Yet another level at which current notions of language change have difficulty accommodating revival languages is the intensity of language planning involved. This is partly connected with the impoverishment of historical records (see §1.4), but also due to validation of certain kinds and sources of language change since these were written. Milroy (2003) discusses the tendency in language change theory to validate only change which is triggered internally, removing the language user from the discourse. While Milroy does not discuss overt and formally agreed language change, he is certainly talking about change which occurs as a result of social factors, such as the emergence of phonological identity markers. It is only a short step from here to see identity markers and
4 See also a useful discussion in Amery (2000:25-27) of the distinction between ‘natural’ and ‘artificial’ languages in relation to Kaurna. 6 Chapter 1 other objects of language development which are intentionally and overtly selected as also of interest within language change theory. In this light, it will be of interest in future studies of language renewal to consider established frameworks of language change such as Aikhenvald’s (2007) sixteen categories of conditions for change, or Curnow’s (2001) exploration of the kinds of elements that can be borrowed between languages. This will allow investigation of the degree to which languages of renewal can be better understood by referral to these frameworks, and conversely, what these languages have to contribute to a fuller representation of language change. For language renewal, not only is rapid and extensive change a distinct possibility, but also there is a need to rely on records whose limitations are manifest, and the need to be confident of authenticity claims a high priority within communities as much as amongst linguists. Here again, the question is largely definitional, as what is salient to the discussions is often different for different parties. Eira and Stebbins (2008) theorise authenticity as a requirement for continuity, assessed by different validating narratives depending on the criteria for what constitutes continuity for a given community (including the linguistics community). A given feature of language can be validated by reference to the heritage of a given line of speakers, family or teachers, recognition of the rights of particular people to authority in language, markers of genetic descent or typological matching, reflection of identity or origins, or other criteria. Linguists of different schools will respond to different pieces of evidence to support their own authenticating narratives, as will communities. Once it is understood that both linguists and language communities refer to these internal systems of validation, each equally justifiable on their own terms, it becomes easier to conceptualise a system which can accommodate and narrate multiple authenticities: For the linguist, this will mean a preparedness to recognise their own as well as community representatives' active lineages of authenticity, in order to be able to use them consciously, as tools, rather than be driven by them ... Based on the assumption that all lineages of authenticity are equally valid in their own right, the linguist could re-view their role as a contributor of information about their own systems of authentication, without acting on a perceived need to gain community representatives’ support for these systems. This could allow for careful consideration (and, sometimes, incorporation) of the contribution offered by linguistics on a given issue, while avoiding the creation of an environment in which it appears necessary to view only the linguist as the gatekeeper of knowledge (Eira and Stebbins 2008:26). The goal of incorporating both community and linguistics validation systems in this way will be evident throughout this book, with the ultimate goal of a language renewed in multiple and authentic ways, whose decisions and spontaneous developments can be explained within a framework of descriptive linguistics. This framework is also renewed, in light of the new understandings to be gained by expanding our knowledge base to include revival languages.
1.4 Processes and priorities While initial work has been done to formalise the overarching processes of language revival (Hinton 2001 for example), there is little documentation as yet of the considerable Introduction 7 process involved in the development of a grammar of such a language. Amery (2000) provides a comprehensive account of the reclamation of Kaurna, including aspects of the grammar, with useful theoretical discussion throughout. The present volume will provide a second account, focused on the development of the grammar and phonology itself. For a renewal language, this process involves on the one hand intensive study of sources including historical documentation, and on the other hand an outward-looking perspective that prioritises useability of the language for the present-day community. Analysing historical sources in the context of languages of renewal is a different task from that undertaken by the historical linguist (Giacon 2003), as the goal goes beyond recreating as accurately as possible a form of a language no longer used, to preparing a foundation for actual use of the language, despite the incompleteness, inaccuracies and discrepancies with which nineteenth century sources are fraught.5 This requires informed decision-making about not only likely forms, but forms that will be used; not only attested members of a paradigm and those which can readily be derived, but a complete paradigm for use; not only affixes which can be analysed, but also putative ones, and additional ones which are perceived necessary. This is why analysis for a language of renewal cannot be done without a theoretical base which is informed not only by linguistics but also by the community concerned. It is easy for linguists to assume that we have the knowledge required to analyse the records of a language, so that this analysis can then be turned into materials for teaching, learning, and language planning and development. What this assumption omits is that all analysis is (intentionally or otherwise) based on a theoretical position. As a linguist working with a community to facilitate reclamation of their language, I do not know what is most important to preserve from an earlier form of the language. Nor do I know what constitutes acceptable change in the pathways the language has taken in ensuing years. I do not know why the language in the present must show respect to speaker x, or why it should be differentiated from language y. I do not know what causes resistance to or preference for particular forms, sources, or orthographic choices. The question for linguists working in language revival, then, is not only whether the community has sufficient information with which to make language decisions, but also whether we have sufficient information ourselves. Only the community can contribute such components of a theoretical and methodological basis, thus making language renewal work necessarily a genuinely collaborative enterprise. Individual communities will make their own decisions about which aspects of the language are more urgent to reclaim. This may or may not be aligned with the linguist’s hierarchy of significance (Thieberger 2002), and may even at times focus on aspects of the language salient to contemporary speakers but not necessarily evident in the historical sources. Linguists will tend to be concerned about either aspects of the language which characterise its typological makeup and/or genetic inheritance, or those which are rare in described world languages, hence preserving the breadth of knowledge of the possibilities of language. In principle, I would say that this focus is also consistent with community goals, as these are often expressed in terms of being able to use language to find and express difference (from English), and to reclaim the sense of identity which comes in part from older cultural ways of knowing. However, because of (a) the practicalities of reclaiming, learning and using language all at the same time, and (b) pathways for
5 See Austin and Crowley (1995) for an accessible description of the methods for analysing phonology from such sources, or Amery (2000:115-120) for a walked-through example. Further walked-through examples at various linguistic levels can be found throughout this book, such as §4.3 (gaps in the pronoun paradigm) or §5.4.1 (discrepancies in verb morphology). 8 Chapter 1 identifying what is important about the language which differ from those of linguistics, as noted above, the community linguist has to be prepared to accept bases for decision- making other than that provided through our approaches to analysing old documents. It is very common, for example, for communities to enter into language renewal by focussing on relexification, as the obvious, clearest route to accessing conceptual knowledge and a rapid sense of reclamation of the language is through the words. A well-known early approach used for Quileute is based on embracing this principle, actively prioritising speaker/learner confidence and achievement over linguistic purity (Powell 1973 – see also Sandefur 1983 for a discussion of this approach in an Australian context). In the present work, I will discuss points of decision-making where aspects of a language which a linguist might consider crucial to full understanding are put aside, at least for the time being (for example, bound pronouns, see §5.3), while others not necessarily characteristic of the historical language are prioritised (for example, ‘r-clusters’, see §2.3.2) because of group identity marking or other reasons. Having said this, there are also aspects of the language prioritised by both community and linguistics criteria, and so brought back into community linguistic practices despite difficulty (for example, inalienable possession, see §5.2.1). Entailed in the selection of elements to prioritise is the question of the roles of the language as reclaimed (as well as the purpose of a grammar such as this one, to be discussed under §1.5). The many possible answers to this are evolving along with the languages themselves, and in some ways it is too soon to say what the languages will ultimately be ‘for’. We have not been here before. Amery (2000) writes that the Kaurna language revival … is pushing the boundaries of what is possible, feasible and acceptable in relation to the revival of languages no longer spoken. Perhaps the ‘impossible dream’ could even become reality. (Amery 2000:24) Like Amery, I have no wish to make definitive statements about what is and is not possible for a new and therefore unknown language situation. In fact quite the reverse – it is the renewal of languages deemed to be ‘dead’ that will lead us to new understandings in this new territory. A few early remarks are nonetheless in order. We do know already that the renewed languages have a very strong symbolic function. This is exemplified by the emphasis on the public speech as an early goal of language reclamation. That few people in the audience of speeches enacting welcome to country and/or acknowledgement of land can understand what is being said, in a literal sense, does not detract in any way from the importance of saying it in language. In my view, what is of primary significance in this speech act is the deeply ceremonial function of the language, connecting present to ancient, reinstating the primacy of that land as the base for everything that happens on it, and creating a framework of orientation, with Aboriginal people and respect for who we (all) are and where we are firmly in view. This is far from tokenistic. A second crucial function of renewed languages is as part of the reclamation of identity, strengthening self-esteem and group esteem, particularly (though certainly not exclusively) for children and young people. For this purpose, the priority is on formulaic language such as greetings, songs in language (including songs translated from English), acquisition of a small number of lexical fields, and initial indications of culture-specific knowledge within this, such as the meaning of kin terms. The main point here is to have something which belongs to you and in turn affirms your belonging. Walsh (2005) cites a number of Indigenous people of both Australia and North America explaining why even a very small Introduction 9 amount of language knowledge is of critical importance. For example (referring to some parts of Australia): Particularly for places of special significance it is felt that access to such a place can be gained only when there is someone who can speak to the spirits that inhabit that place. And the ‘place’ will understand only the language of the land-owning group in whose territory that place resides ... This is a strong incentive to retain enough of the language belonging to a place to gain access to that place. (Walsh 2005:307) Neither relexification nor knowledge of certain lexical fields has much to do with developing a grammar. In addition, however, the stated goal of many if not most is to restore their language to the point where people can communicate without the use of English. For such a goal to be even thinkable, issues of change have to be addressed. Fettes summarises this in a North American context: ...reweaving of the language braid will not produce the old language ... If it is successful, a new language will arise, one with deep roots in its traditional heritage but equally reliant on the urge of its speakers to use the language for everyday purposes and in everyday contexts far removed from the traditional ones. (Fettes 1997:312, cited in Amery 2000:24) It is in this context that the relevance of a grammar of language renewal arises. On the one hand, the description of the language must document what is happening, while on the other hand, its development must participate in facilitating the communicative function required of the language. For example, if the renewed language differs from the heritage language in a reduction or elimination of an ergative system, then for communicative purposes, the grammar developed must establish something in its place, such as a fixed word order principle. If the available and acceptable sources for the language provide no second person pronouns, then the developing grammar must establish what those pronouns will be – whether they are borrowed from surrounding languages, a pidgin or English, or developed from language-internal resources, or reconstructed by comparison with cognates. In this way, the language is gradually made ready for whatever communicative functions its community may require as they extend the roles and domains of their language. The decisions made, the linguistic and community bases for these decisions, and the language use that emerges, together constitute the material for the grammatical description.
1.5 The grammar of a language of renewal A grammar of a renewed language is an account of the linguistic layers of a movement which encompasses far more in its processes and effects. It necessarily reflects both community and linguistic analyses underlying its development. As has been indicated already, the grammar of a renewed language belongs to a new genre only beginning to be understood. Rather than focussing on a synchronic description of hard language data, such a grammar must balance and interweave several layers of language simultaneously – (i) the reconstructive analysis of the historical language, preserved to varying degrees in archival sources, (ii) successive waves of change in the language since colonisation, in response to restrictions on language use, the influence of English and other Aboriginal languages, and spontaneous adaptation to the communicative 10 Chapter 1 requirements of the imposed environment, and (iii) the renewed language in the present day, which responds to this documentary history through the memories and priorities of community representatives, collaborative decision-making, and the outworking of a language-in-process as speaker confidence and numbers expand, together with domains and frequency of use. Linguistic details such as allomorphic variation, criteria for determining word order, or the relations between phonology and orthographic representation, reflect the chronological layers of the language, the tensions between goals, and the focus on language planning. The task for the linguist is to provide an accurate description of the language in use, analysis of the historical sources and the light shed on these through cognate records and analyses, argumentation for current language planning directions that shows the relationship of the contemporary language to its various forms over time, and an explanation of the contemporary processes through which the language is being brought back into the present. Alongside community language revival efforts, teaching and/or community reference grammars are now emerging which refer to and incorporate contemporary community usage and decisions. For example, Amery et al (forthcoming) discusses possibilities for talking about time in terms of both historical sources and present-day requirements, with contemporary examples including tindo kuma '1:00' or kumirka mila munara tindo marnkutye ‘A quarter to three’, literally ‘15 before 3 o’clock’ (using the workshop- developed term kumirka mila ‘fifteen’). The baseline use of tindo ‘day, sun’, is drawn from nineteenth-century records, which show tindourlo ‘tomorrow’ (day-TEMPORAL). (See also Wanganeen and Eira 2006.) The newness of this type of linguistic description is in some ways parallel to descriptions of other ‘new’ types of Aboriginal language, such as Gurindji Kriol (McConvell and Meakins 2005), Light Warlpiri (O’Shannessy 2005) or Areyonga Teenage Pitjantjatjara (Langlois 2004, 2006). O’Shannessy demonstrates the status of Light Warlpiri as a new language (as distinct from, for instance, a pidgin) by arguing that the elements of input langages Warlpiri, Kriol and English are systematically combined, that the language is an in-group language rather than a vehicle for intergroup communication, that it differs from the code-mixing of older Warlpiri speakers, and ‘has conventionalised into a new language, which is now learned by children as one of their two first languages’ (O’Shannessy 2005:32). She describes at length features characterising and distinguishing this new language, particularly the new auxiliary system developed by younger generation speakers and the distribution of ergative marking, discussing potential sources and pathways of emergence for each. The principle of writing up a grammar of a revival language as it is currently used is not ‘only’ sociopolitical, but also theoretical and methodological. In Eira (2007), I have outlined how revisiting some of the most fundamental principles of linguistics in the light of language revival requires linguists to see community usage and views as the authoritative window into language description in this arena. These principles can be summarised as: Descriptivism – If one of the key roles of linguistics is to provide an accurate description of current language phenomena, then this entails the validity and worth of the contemporary language as an object of study in its own right: This directly challenges our assumed definition of language revival. We know, it appears to us, what the language should be. With the best of intentions, we want to direct the community towards our view of their language. But their Introduction 11
language, according to linguistic theory itself, is what they are using. (Eira 2007:84)
Objectivity – While there are arguments that can be made for and against this principle, one useful point that it raises is that prior knowledge can unintentionally function as a block to understanding new knowledge. In the present context, a linguist’s knowledge of earlier forms of the language can stand in the way of our understanding of the new knowledge that languages of revival embody. Language in context – For the descriptive linguist it is axiomatic that the rich complexity of language is accessible only through a study of language in its contexts. The effects of colonisation being a critical characterising context of languages in Australia, this means that an understanding of the complexity of renewed languages must include the ways in which they are recreated, the various influences seen over the periods of their reduced use and their reclamation, the factors consciously included in decision-making as well as unconsciously implemented, et cetera. One of the goals of writing a grammar of a renewed language is to further establish the parameters for analysing and describing this relatively new type of language, and thereby contribute to a clearer understanding of what language revival work entails. A grammar of a language of renewal is important to linguists as it deepens our understanding of the nature of language in general. It gives us on-the-ground material for considering questions about authenticity, change and continuity, the balance between organic development and language planning, the identity and role of the speech community and outgroup linguists. The lessons learned from long-established languages may need revisiting here; the lessons learned from other language situations responding to intense contact may have more to offer (Goodfellow and Alfred 2002). A theory of language which is robust enough to offer a coherent account of all the forms and processes of language of which the human race is demonstrably capable would be a great achievement for our discipline as a whole. It would also enable us to work more effectively in the variety of situations our profession offers us. A grammar of a language of renewal is also important to communities, as for many, like the Narungga, this work has to start almost from scratch, with little active knowledge in the community and English as the primary language for several generations. The methods and pathways are also little known – possibly no-one in the community has been involved in such an endeavour before, and the field within linguistics is also very restricted in terms of resources, experienced people, and established understandings within the discipline. Records of the linguistic side of language revival projects will be important for communities as an example of what is possible, what considerations might be involved, and what language development into the future might look like. The present work describes the emerging renewed Narungga language in its current landmark phase of initial analysis, planning, teaching and use, in terms of the historical, linguistic and sociolinguistic streams which are forming it. It also outlines the questions remaining and possibilities available but as yet not fully explored within the data collected. Finally, it documents the informed creativity of contemporary speakers in moving beyond what was specifically collected in times past, in ways that also honour the uniqueness of their language and the gift of their ancestors received through the historical records. This book is offered in the hope that it will contribute to a greater coherence of theory and practice, of ideas about language and on-the-ground practice of language, and of the goals of linguists and communities. 12 Chapter 1
1.6 Land, people and language Narungga is the traditional language of the Yorke Peninsula, South Australia. It is a member of the Thura-Yura family, of the Miru group, along with Kaurna, Nukunu, Ngadjuri and possibly Permangk. More distant members of the family include Nhawu, Barngarla, Adnyamathanha and Kuyani. Linguistic evidence such as lenition patterns (S&H, see also Howitt 1996) suggests that at least Kaurna and Narungga, and possibly also Nukunu, separated from the northern members before eventually splitting off into the three language groups known today.6 Amery (2000) provides a brief introduction to this language family, while a detailed discussion of Proto Thura-Yura and reflexes in these languages can be found in S&H. Contact with various overseas visitors and immigrants began early in Narungga lands, with the intermittent arrival of sealers and whalers on the south coast from the early 1800s. However, the earliest extant evidence of one of these Europeans actually recording Narungga language was not until after the beginning of colonisation of the area in the 1830s – Snell’s diary, written 1849-59. Even at this early stage, there is at least one word which suggests adaptation of the language to introduced concepts: ‘Tanne Arrito’, whose language is represented in this diary, uses a verb bundu ‘to blow’ in reference to ‘smoking’. There are no further records of the language available until the 1860s, when life on Yorke Peninsula had been irretrievably altered, leading to the establishment of the Moravian mission in 1868. This event was motivated by, on the one hand, concern for the protection of Aboriginal women and children in particular from the unrestrained aggression of some colonists, and on the other hand, desire for removal of the ‘problem’ of displaced and impoverished Narungga people, caused by a sequence of sealing and whaling, widespread agriculture, then mining, and the associated development of townships and European wealth (see Anon. 1867, Anon. 1960, Heinrich 1972, Mattingley et al 1992). Shifts in the language ecology triggered by the mission period and the forced relocation of people, first from around Narungga territory, then later between the various missions around the State, increased the influence on Narungga of not only neighbouring languages, but also more distantly related languages, such as Kukatha and Pitjantjatjara. In addition, wordlists made during this period record many new words and semantic extensions of existing words, such as Khn
6 Details of Ngadjuri are less clear at this stage, and will probably remain so at least until the release of the Berndt data, scheduled for 2024. 7 Transcriptions in Narungga sources will be indicated by the use of angle brackets, and the popular orthography by italics. Similarly, the transcriptions of primary sources in other languages will be indicated by angle brackets, and a standardised orthography, community spelling or, in the absence of these, a conventional spelling as per a major dictionary, by italics. Introduction 13
Little is known directly about the level of language use through the twentieth century, but indications are that it was very low. Sarah Newchurch in 1919 was able to record several sets of paradigmatic sentences with Black, though there is evidence in this record of changes in her language due to loss of memory and the influence of other Aboriginal languages as well as English. After this, there is little recorded evidence of the continued use of the language. In 1936, Louisa Eglinton revised an earlier wordlist with Tindale (originally recorded in 1898 with Johnson and Grandmother Louisa’s white husband, George Eglinton). This revision appears to have been largely with the goal of clarifying the pronunciation of the words from Johnson’s pseudo-English spelling. Few additions were made to Grandmother Louisa’s list at this later date, and it seems that she lived largely in isolation from her heritage community for most of her life due to exemption laws. It was not until the second half of the century that the language was recorded onto tape. Starting in the 1960s, various Elders including Gladys Elphick and Cliff Edwards were recorded by Catherine Ellis and others. The focus in these tapes is on collaborative remembering of individual words, cultural meanings associated – and talk of how the language had been lost. In a project based at Point Pearce in the 1980s, Elders including Gladys Elphick, Auntie Phoebe Wanganeen, Auntie Doris Graham and Auntie Eileen Jovic documented their combined memories of around 200 words, along with associated cultural knowledge. From this program a teaching resource kit was developed (Kirke et al 1988) which includes both this wordlist and some from historical sources, releasing around 700 words for community access. Comments by Narungga people and anecdotal evidence suggest that language came back into focus from this point, especially in the school at Point Pearce, but was largely restricted to the 200 words remembered by the Elders, and English sentential contexts. Point Pearce teachers Elizabeth Newchurch and Edmond O’Loughlin were the primary coordinators of this first reclamation program, with the assistance of funding from the Yaitya Warra Wodli language centre. A musicocultural project centred around the culturally important gurdi (quandong) was also developed in this period by many of the same Elders, with Chester Schultz, utilising fragments of a song included in the Eglinton/Tindale records.
1.7 The language renewal project – processes for decision-making It is from this point that the intensive language renewal project was commenced in 2000, under the auspices of the Narungga Aboriginal Progress Association (NAPA). Directed by a Reference Group of senior Narungga community members and a few selected non-Aboriginal people, I was contracted to undertake a thorough-going collection and analysis of all sources for both lexical and grammatical information, together with comparative analysis, and identification of remaining gaps and questions. Information about all this was passed back to the community in a series of plain-language documents. Once this phase was complete, a broad summary of findings, gaps in the paradigms and language planning questions were brought to a series of open workshops of Narungga people, over a period of two years. One of the most significant achievements of the workshop phase was to shift the concept of language usage from isolated words to complete grammatical sentences, moving rapidly to stories, speeches, songs and conversations (see Gale and Mickan 2008 14 Chapter 1 for discussion of a similar pathway for Ngarrindjeri). The primary tasks of the workshops focused on making decisions for the following, details of which can be found in the relevant sections throughout the book: articulations for teaching and reclamation, orthographic development, principles for deciding on apparently competing forms (such as preferential reliance on older sources and degree of acceptance of cognate evidence), regularising and extending the use of affixes recorded for Narungga (see §5.2.3 for example), use or otherwise of additional affixes recorded for related languages (see §5.2.4 for example), filling the gaps in the pronoun paradigms (see §4.3), fixed word order (§6.2.1), priorities for teaching/learning purposes in regard to unfamiliar grammar and phonology (such as bound pronouns – see §5.3), and inconclusive analyses (such as verb classes – see §5.4.1), whether and how to create new words (§5.5), and lexicographic policy including how to represent questions of inconclusive analysis, identification of Narungga as opposed to related or contact language loans and degree of common lexicon between languages, and the relative merits of foregrounding the English-language section or the Narungga-English section (NAPA 2006). During that period, the employment of Tania Wanganeen as language worker made possible a much more detailed consultation and decision-making process, combined with on-the-job training. These more micro-level decisions were then fed back into community understandings through the teaching program and the development of teaching and reference resources. This apprenticeship-style model was maintained over the next few years in a wedge framework (language worker increasing in tasks and responsibility while the linguist reduced) until finally Tania was not only carrying the full burden of linguistic analysis and resource development, but also training other language workers, on the same model. Much later in the piece, an intensive course in Linguistics for language renewal (Narungga) was undertaken by a number of Narungga people (see §1.8). This filled in much of the background to the analyses and proposals presented during the workshop phase. At the time of the workshops, then, decision-making relied on progressive understanding of linguistic and community issues discussed in the workshops – that is, an exchange of knowledge to equip the community to make linguistic decisions, and myself to understand not only the letter but the spirit of their preferences, to be able to translate it into the linguistic terms needed to inform my analysis and theoretical positioning. In this way, policies were developed in the workshops, leaving their implementation to me (and later Tania) – for example, by revisiting analysis of forms according to priorities of source and language differentiation agreed on in the workshop. The revised results were then presented at later workshops so that people could see what their decisions ‘looked like’, gain a deeper understanding of the language development process that was involved, teach Introduction 15 me further about the basis for their choices, and revisit policy decisions or my understanding of them if necessary. All decisions made for the renewed language during this foundation period were based on general principles of procedure established in workshops:
The linguistic structures attested in Narungga sources constitute the primary basis of analysis. This exemplifies a level of caution common to language revival communities in Australia, who see this as a means of being confident that the language reclaimed is ‘really theirs’. There are a number of factors here. In part, it seems to me, it is triggered by conditions of extreme loss to communities of both knowledge and authority in their languages and cultures, which leaves them uncertain about how to trust or assess the identity and veracity of information in a particular document or analysis. Another factor is the political environment, in which procedures such as Native Title require evidence of distinct and continuous lines of heritage, promoting as a side effect a tendency towards purism that is unlikely to have characterised the pre-colonisation language ecology. Thirdly, particularly for languages whose records date largely from the mission period onwards, there is considerable concern about an excessive level of language mixing due to forced close contact with people from various Countries. A generally acceptable strategy to deal with serious issues such as the above, is to focus primarily or at least initially on historical sources which are labelled as from the target language (including recognised alternative names), a speaker known to have the appropriate language group identity, and/or a location accepted as within the group boundaries (as well as, of course, current community knowledge).8
In relation to this, comparative analysis of related languages is utilised within a limited role: to clarify and test analysis, and to support the coherent completion of paradigms only partially recorded. Only very occasionally did the group consider expanding the grammatical resources of Narungga by exploring those of related languages – and only then when it was also possible to argue for any proposed inclusions on the basis of Narungga sources (see §5.2.4 and §5.4.1). A particular concern of the Narungga group in this regard was to ensure differentiation of their language from that of Kaurna. Kaurna is the most closely related language to Narungga, sometimes even designated as the same language,9 despite significant differences in lexicon, form of reflexes, and morphology (see §5.4.1 for example). Several members of the working groups for both languages have heritage tying them to both languages. The Kaurna language revival started significantly earlier than the focussed Narungga work (see Amery 2000), and hence had already established practices, policies and language decisions which can tend to function as a default norm. For all the above reasons, the Narungga Project group made conscious decisions at a number of points
8 Exclusions will of course occur. For example, in studying one source labelled as Narungga, it became clear that the language was nonetheless Ngadjuri (Berndt 1940). 9 ‘Owing to the similarity of the dialects of the Yorke Peninsula and Adelaide tribes, the prevalence of circumcision and other customs, together with the fact of their being adjoining neighbours, seems to me to justify the assumption that they were practically the same people. I have therefore included these two tribes in the one nation.’ (R.H. Mathews, 1900, quoted in Amery 2000:4) 16 Chapter 1 which would identify Narungga as distinct from Kaurna – particularly apparent in the orthography (see §3.3).
The right of Narungga people to determine what is and is not part of their language is upheld at all points. This includes the incorporation or otherwise of changes apparent in the language after the onset of colonisation, and so includes some language features which may at times be assessed by others as sourced from elsewhere. This entails careful balancing of the requirement for authenticity, in terms of the historical language, with the understanding that language change is also authentic. Obviously language loss under conditions of colonisation operates at a very different level to that of change in a majority language. It is clear just from the expansion of the lexicon that language change was occurring in response to colonisation from the earliest records, with new and extended terms for introduced objects, animals and concepts. From here the language moves through a process of gradual change and loss, itself documented through records from the partial memory of important speakers such as Sarah Newchurch in around 1919, through to Gladys Elphick and other Point Pearce Elders in the 1980s (cf. §1.8). As discussed under §1.3, the criteria for judging authenticity and acceptability for the renewed language have to be determined by the language community. As the community linguist in this scenario, my task is to make the knowledge I bring to the table as accessible as possible to the community, firstly to aid in informing those decisions, and secondly to gradually pass over the responsibility for the work that I do. Then, as the descriptive linguist, my task is to document the language that results and the pathways by which it arrived where it is.
The goal of overall consistency strongly informs decisions made, regularising apparent competing forms and analyses to maximise the immediate useability of the language to new speaker/learners. See for example the discussion of decisions made for present tense and imperative suffixes in §5.4.1. At the same time, this is balanced by careful documenting of variations evidenced in the sources, and of queries not fully resolvable at this stage. For example, the Project dictionary includes an entire section of words recorded which are currently indecipherable, in terms of their phonological form, their meaning, or both (NAPA 2006). This ensures at once that the record of the language from the sources is complete, and that there is a current ‘variety’ which is coherent and ready to use.
The regular, productive and creative principles evidenced are broadly applied to the whole collection (for example, a single, clear attestation of an inflectional affix is implemented as the form for that morpheme in all cases). This principle prioritises the need to be able to use language, which means that reasonable, though poorly attested, possibilities must be welcomed and implemented, in the hope that supporting evidence will come to light at a later date. This is done transparently (both at community level and in the present book), as the paramount goal in language revival is to facilitate people to begin using their language to the fullest extent possible – even at the risk of having to update the analysis, and therefore the teaching, at a later stage. Language revival is inherently a process. If we wait for a complete and final Introduction 17 analysis, together with complete and final language planning decisions, people will never be able to begin learning their language. It is by these five principles that the language moved from a set of analysed historical documents into a renewed and living language for contemporary people. They will be evident as terms of reference for the grammatical description in this book. The section below outlines the range of current usage of the language in terms of participants and domains. This account is restricted to observation of events that I have been involved in, plus additional information that others have passed on to me. The actual extent of language use, whether of the renewed language or of Narungga interspersed in English, is not fully accessible to an outsider.
1.8 Current usage The Narungga people in the present live not only on the Aboriginal Reserve at Point Pearce and throughout Yorke Peninsula, but also in Adelaide and suburbs, and in various places around Australia as well as overseas.
School Language classes for adults and for children are an important locus of language revival activity, not only because of the focus on language use and learning entailed in these contexts, which then extends beyond the classroom, but also because the language is necessarily developed at lexical, discursive and even syntactic levels through the creative language activity required both for preparation of materials and in class sessions. A series of adult language classes was piloted soon after the language planning workshop phase. The initial purpose was in part to allow for any discrepancies in the language planning phase to be identified and addressed. In addition to this, it provided opportunity for the reinstatement of Narungga language amongst Narungga people, as classes were available only to the Narungga. Two ten-week modules were run under the auspices of NAPA, taught by Tania Wanganeen and myself and funded by Tauondi Inc. In a taped evaluation following the classes, every one of the students commented on a renewed spiritual and cultural connection as a direct result of their involvement in the revival of the language. In the following year, five graduates of this program undertook an intensive course in Linguistics for Language Renewal (Narungga), designed and taught by myself. The language used in the early adult classes spanned the full range of the available grammar and lexicon as represented in draft versions of the community dictionary and grammar (now published as NAPA 2006 and Wanganeen and Eira 2006 respectively). Students implemented formulaic sequences, wrote and presented welcome and self- introduction speeches, participated in question-and-answer exchanges and verbal games, and engaged in semi-spontaneous conversations within suggested frames of grammar and/or topic. Aboriginal Education Workers (AEWs) from these classes then taught a subset of what they were learning to Aboriginal students attending the Area schools, assisted by Tania Wanganeen, and writing their own teaching materials and resources in the process. Students from beginner year levels through to the high school classes were involved in this first phase of teaching in the schools. They sang songs, constructed sentences with a limited number of variables, used greeting exchanges, and wrote and presented short self- 18 Chapter 1 introductions. The AEWs reported an increase in confidence of both themselves and their students in the school situation. Some difficulties caused by the lack of language teaching resources, copyright concerns, teacher continuity issues and other problems led to a period of consolidated negotiations between NAPA, local schools and the then Department of Education and Children’s Services (DECS). This three-way partnership is now coming to fruition, in the form of a structured curriculum, departmental support for resource development, and agreements as to the involvement of local Narungga people in the teaching of the language at school. NAPA are also planning to set up a community resource centre for both children and adults to learn and use the language outside of school hours.
Workplace At the NAPA offices, Narungga greeting exchanges are commonly used between staff, and sometimes on the phone. Some office staff also converse in Narungga on occasion where possible. This commonly occurs as a recycling and extension of conversations held in class. Letters from NAPA, and flyers for events which they host, now usually include opening and closing or other brief segments in Narungga, especially when they are written to people involved with the language project. Maitland Area Hospital has put up dual signage throughout the hospital, through consultation with NAPA, and has obtained a tape of Tania Wanganeen reading the signs. Some meetings with Tania have been held at the hospital to raise staff awareness and understanding.
Home and daily use Families of adult students are beginning to use Narungga greetings at home, as well as an increased number of Narungga words interspersed in English, and a few familiar sentences. At least one family is using considerably more than this, with instructions to the children as well as segments of general conversation often being carried out in Narungga. Adult students who meet coincidentally during the day sometimes carry out basic information and news exchange at least partly in Narungga, and several people use Narungga for greetings and closures, including on the phone and in email. During adult class days, some Narungga can be heard during breaks, in contexts such as organising food or borrowing cigarettes, and the AEWs report casual use by their school students in the playground and on school excursions, in part as a strategy for strengthening ingroup boundaries. Anecdotal evidence suggests that the influence of the project is now spreading further into the Narungga community, as signs and even T-shirts have been seen sporting language in the Project orthography.
Formal events Requests for speeches in Narungga to open events are becoming common all over Narungga land. Several students and some other workshop participants have carried out this function, usually (but not always) with assistance from Tania to write the speech. A number of existing speeches, including some from an earlier stage of the project written by Reference Group members, are commonly used as templates, which people adapt according to preference and the requirements of the occasion (cf. §7.3). A prominent Introduction 19 exception to this is Tania herself, who usually writes a new speech from scratch for each occasion – thereby also providing additional speeches to use as templates. School students have also been involved in formal occasions for which they have written and presented short speeches. Tania’s daughter, aged eight years at the time of writing, is regularly delivering a speech to acknowledge land in her school assembly. A preliminary proposal for dual signage for select locations throughout Narungga land is being developed, with the participation of the local Council.10 Any moves towards implementing this would of course require considerable further discussion with a range of stakeholders.
1.9 Research sources The final section of this chapter provides a brief assessment of the various sources used for Narungga language analysis and development. The nature of the Narungga sources is such that it is not useful to list all items containing language. Some words and whole lists reappear in many different sources. Many items contain no more than a few words within a much larger English text; taped discussions of language frequently yield very little in the way of examples; edited reproductions of various combinations of earlier work abound, and so on. Here I include only primary sources, noting their main variants and reproductions, major secondary historical sources, recent and current sources which have been central to the renewal project, plus a few collated sources which are well known and readily available. In the same way, it should be noted that citation of sources throughout this book is not comprehensive, but reflects these same priorities. I have listed the sources by speaker, where known, as it is that original source and the time of collection that we are most concerned with here. This fits in with a general move to acknowledge Aboriginal participants in language research more directly. As Alice W. Rigney put it: If we go down the track of just doing it [using the academic name as reference for language documentation] because it’s under a recognizable name like Tindale, we’ll never ever get the point across that Louisa was the one that gave Tindale the information ... Louisa is someone that we should acknowledge, because she actually gave the information. (Interview 2005) Abbreviations used throughout the book for Narungga sources also reflect this focus. The times of collection are broadly categorised in relation to the mission period and the language renewal era, as (i) Early, (ii) Mission period, from 1868-1915, (iii) Intermediate, during the first half of the century following the mission period, (iv) Recent, from the sound recordings made in the 1960s to the beginnings of language reclamation in the 1980s, and (v) Current, dating from the intensive effort starting in 2000. This last category includes persons and language events that were important for the development of the language, as well as documents and tapes made. Note that collections made in the time of the mission were not all made on the mission – notably, Louisa Eglinton left the mission on an ‘exemption’ long before she recorded her language in the documents below.
10 The preliminary proposal is based on a draft map created through the Language Project. The language data for the map was collated by Moyna Carter, and an artist’s representation drawn up in the form of a wall map by Melina Magdalena (see front cover). 20 Chapter 1
1.9.1 Early ‘Tanne Arrito’,11 in Snell, Edward, 1988. The life and adventures of Edward Snell: The illustrated diary of an artist, engineer and adventurer in the Australian colonies 1849 to 1859. Edited and introduced by Tom Griffiths, with Alan Platt. North Ryde, N.S.W.: Angus and Robertson and The Library Council of Victoria. Snell was a traveller and diarist who stayed for some time in the southern region of Narungga land and cohabited with ‘Tanne Arrito’. A small section in Snell’s diary constitutes the oldest Narungga language source available, which makes it a very important document. Its 124 items include twenty-eight verbs, most of which are unrecorded in other Narungga collections. In addition, small but significant differences between the representation of ‘Tanne Arrito’s’ pronunciation and that represented in other sources may support the division into a northern and southern dialect reported by some community members. A fairly consistent lenition of initials in particular is evident as compared to other Narungga sources. While this may reflect something specific about either this speaker or the collector’s hearing or notation practices, the possibility of dialectal difference cannot be discounted. These are precious indications, as most of the language collected is from the mission period or later, so that any dialectal differences have become merged.12 For example, it is in this list that apparent fricative allophones of /b/ and /d/ appear (for example, TA/S