Language and Spirit: Exploring Languages, Religions and Spirituality in Australia Today 3030930637, 9783030930639

Citation preview

Language and Spirit Exploring Languages, Religions and Spirituality in Australia Today Edited by Robyn Moloney · Shenouda Mansour

Language and Spirit “We never say it enough: Language cannot be ignored in trying to make sense of who we are as complex human beings. In this sensational volume, the editors convince us of the importance of multilingualism in our many and varied spiritual journeys. The structure of the book makes it a very original read, opening with beautiful personal narratives, and supplemented by stimulating research chapters. The book is already on my students’ list of compulsory readings!” —Prof. Fred Dervin, University of Helsinki, Finland; Professor of Multicultural Education, Director of the TENSION Research Group (Diversities and Interculturality in Education) “This is an extraordinary book addressing issues of language and spirituality, exploring beliefs, experiences and practices across languages and contexts. The book is the only one I have seen to work from indigenous languages to diasporic and community languages. Governments, researchers and teachers shy away from religious and spiritual aspects of language seeing language purely at a transactional level. But we learn and use languages to understand and express the ways we see the world. This volume is a ‘must-read’ for everyone interested in teaching or learning languages.” —Prof Ken Cruickshank, Director, Sydney Institute for Community Languages Education, University of Sydney “The intersections of language, religion and identity are of vital importance to questions of language maintenance and use in a multilingual world. Blending scholarly research studies with personal narratives, and diaspora voices with Indigenous voices, the editors and contributors to this volume have opened up an exciting new research agenda on the linguistic lives of those to whom spirituality matters.” —Professor Phil Benson Professor of Applied Linguistics and Director of the Multilingualism Research Centre, Macquarie University “This is a compelling volume. It successfully crosses boundaries in approaches to research and writing and invites readers to cross boundaries in relation to languages, cultures and faith. It focuses on language as that most powerful resource for discovering the world and the self. It offers voices which capture the

intercultural exchange of meanings – Indigenous people, non-indigenous people and those living in diaspora in Australia. Writers offer their reflections, indeed wisdom, as they engage to better understand others and themselves. The work provides a mirror with which we can reference our own stories as we too consider critically the way we live reciprocally with others to achieve a more equitable and peaceful world.” —Angela Scarino 7 September 2021 Director, Research Centre for Languages & Cultures, UniSA Justice and Society University of South Australia

Robyn Moloney  •  Shenouda Mansour Editors

Language and Spirit Exploring Languages, Religions and Spirituality in Australia Today

Editors Robyn Moloney School of Education Macquarie University Sydney, NSW, Australia

Shenouda Mansour NSW Ecumenical Council Sydney, NSW, Australia

ISBN 978-3-030-93063-9    ISBN 978-3-030-93064-6 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and ­transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. Cover illustration: Monica Bertolazzi/Getty This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG. The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

Foreword

Language and Spirit is a substantial volume of living voices describing personal and collective experiences of the intersection of language, religion, identity and spirituality. It is very much today. This is not a history or the stories of others from far away in time and place. These are Australian stories from Indigenous, migrant, multigenerational settler and other voices. Voices come from recognisable religious traditions, others from less well known and some from no traditional religious affiliation, demonstrating the core intersections examined and displayed here in highly diverse socio-cultural locations. The editors are to be commended for the careful way they have curated what they have been given so as to protect authenticity and promote availability. In this Preface I offer some reflections on the intersection of language, religion and spirituality. There is no community without language, and identities are formed through interaction requiring language. Differences among communities are marked by linguistic differences, identity markers, argot, and dialect. Identities grow out of, are expressed through, and celebrated in our storytelling. We develop our identities largely though hearing ourselves described by others, and in listening to our responses to those around us. These processes are language dependent.

v

vi Foreword

We know we belong when we can understand others and make ourselves understood. Shared understandings are core to feeling part of the story of the family, group or society. Again, this requires shared languages. Each religion has its own language and its own understanding of communication with the divine, or the spirit. Each has a language that both enshrines and makes available to the trained eye and ear the deep wisdom of each tradition. Spirituality – our relation with that which is deeply within us, which accompanies us closely on our way, and is ever more than us – may occur in prelinguistic experiences of awe, or wonder, a sense of presence, or a deep welling of joy or love. However, we cannot share or validate such experiences without language. Even in just remembering such experiences we use language to form the memory, to tell ourselves our story. As I noted in 2006 (Bouma, 2006) whatever secularisation theories predicted, spirituality is not on the decline, and religion is growing in strength and presence in the public sphere increasingly in the twenty-first century. Cultures vary greatly in the language provided to apprehend the spiritual. Post-enlightenment western language and thought have made decreasing room for such thinking and speaking. Part of secularisation and disenchantment has been the dismissal and denigration of language once used. The removal of language is a critically effective way to dismantle a culture and society. Witness the deliberate policies denying Indigenous children access to their languages. It is possible to have an experience for which there is no language, but it is impossible to share it and it is difficult to retain the memory. Only when there is language can an experience, either group or individual, become part of culture, part of a group’s story. I have had a number of profound experiences in my early childhood which I reappropriated much later when language about near death experiences became available. There is no doubt that I had certain experiences, but I had not been able to share them, or even describe them to myself, although I kept the image and feelings fresh in my memory. Language allowed a different mode of savouring experiences. Every group has a story and those seeking to join a group will hear the story told in many different ways. Not all of them are explicit, many are

 Foreword 

vii

implicit, in phrases, references to events or persons, and explanations about why things are done in certain ways. Part of the process of becoming accepted is to learn the group’s story, but also how to tell it, and to tell it in a way that the person is located in the group and its story. The ways language, identity, religion and spirituality work together and intersect vary across societies. What is true in Azerbaijan is not true in Australia, neither are Britain and Australia the same (Bouma, 2016). Australia is one of, if not the most diverse nation in the world, and is unique in the degree, composition and history of its diversity (Bouma & Halafoff, 2017). According to the 2016 Census, Australia has six substantial religious communities maintaining distinctive places of worship shops and schools – Muslims and Buddhists at 2.5%, Hindus at 2%, Sikhs and Jews at 0.5%. Only Catholics at 23% and Anglicans at 13% are more numerous than these. A plethora of other religious communities from Indigenous, to Lutherans, to Mormons, to Scientologists increase the nuance and diversity of the religio-spiritual offerings. Even when taken together, Christians failed to form a majority in most Australian States and Territories. Each of these communities uses and maintains different cultures, languages, histories, stories, rituals and associations. Australia’s multicultural policies and practices facilitate respectful interaction among communities enriching the parts as well as the whole. Many social and political theories ignore these underlying diversities in the search for universally applicable understandings or ‘best practice’ policies. Any approach that does not start with careful attention to the diverse personal realities in place is doomed to mislead. Australian attachment to religion and spirituality is often compared with that of the United States, in discussing for example, apparently low church attendance. Such comparisons incorrectly make the situation in one society somehow normative for another, a vestige of colonialism. While inequalities and dissonance still mark the society, much local writing suggests that Australians are moving towards pleasure, if not occasional pride in being part of one of the most successful multicultural societies in the world. The ties between language, culture, religion and identity are as delicate and nuanced, as they are diverse. They are held close to the inner quiet of a person, even when subject to reflection. Seldom are they trumpeted about. They become ‘shy hopes held tenderly in the heart’ (Bouma, 2006)

viii Foreword

to paraphrase Manning Clark. This is one of the best definitions of the personal ‘sacred’. It is protected from scrutiny and critique, due to its vulnerability and profound uniqueness to each. Old notions of totalising identities, or mass conformity probably never accurately described Australians, but they certainly do not do so now. Personal accounts like many in this book, of navigating life and diversity, especially among Australian teens, reveal myriad ways of making meaning, ethical judgements and seeing the world. Two research projects (Singleton et al., 2021; Halafoff et al., 2020) of which I have been part depict this rich diversity, this process of negotiating the welter of choices, challenges and opportunities. Only a few are traditionally religious, and they are discerning their choices not being defined by denomination or religious identity. Most, including many of the 52% who declare they have ‘no religion’ are open to and/or practice forms of spirituality. This book testifies to the rich diversity of the religio-spiritual domain. It resists deconstruction of what is encountered, experienced and then expressed. It resolutely avoids reductionism, and is largely clear of the binaries that have for so long burdened and blinkered careful examination, acceptance of what is there and language about it. The book is largely free of imposed theories and ideologies. This book is full of research, reporting, personal stories and recounting of the roles that language plays in shaping identity, navigating intercultural relationships, travel, growing up, learning to listen intently to others. Our use and management of language forges relationships, defines how we sit with others and either builds connection and respect, or walls of difference and disrespect. A confident grasp of one’s own story sets a foundation for openness to diversity, to others’ ways of being. Intercultural literacy rising from respectful resting with and listening to others is the basis for a successful society. Language and Spirit: Exploring languages, religion and spirituality in Australia today takes the reader into the wonderful world of today’s Australia. Let no one say that religion is dead, spirituality is vacuous, or language is withering. This book provides rich evidence to the contrary. Enjoy. Monash University Melbourne, VIC, Australia

Gary D. Bouma

 Foreword 

ix

References Bouma, G. (2006). Australian Soul: Religion and Spirituality in the Twenty-First Century (p. 5). Cambridge University Press. Bouma, G. (2016). The Role of Demographic and Socio-cultural Factors in Australia’s Successful Multicultural Society: How Australia Is Not Europe. The Journal of Sociology, 52, 750–771. Bouma, G., & Halafoff, A. (2017). Australia’s Changing Religious Profile— Rising Nones and Pentecostals, Declining British Protestants in Superdiversity: Views from the 2016 Census. Journal for the Academic Study of Religion, 30, 129–143. Halafoff, A., Shipley, H., Young, P. D., Singleton, A., Rasmussen, M. L., & Bouma, G. (2020). Complex, Critical and Caring: Young People’s Diverse Religious, Spiritual and Non-Religious Worldviews in Australia and Canada. Religions, 11(4), 166. https://doi.org/10.3390/rel11040166 Singleton, A., Halafoff, A., Rasmussen, M.-L., & Bouma, G. (2021). Freedoms, Faiths, and Futures: Australian Teens Negotiate Religious and Sexual Diversities. Bloomsbury.

Acknowledgement of Country

The contributors to this book, from many origins, have written in homes, schools, offices and coffee shops in cities, rural towns, on the Traditional Country of many First Nations across Australia. In the spirit of Reconciliation, we acknowledge and pay respect to all past, present and future Traditional Custodians and Elders of the lands on which we have gathered and of this nation, and the continuation of cultural, spiritual and educational practices of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

xi

Acknowledgements Page

All material in this volume has been blind peer reviewed. Further readings and reviews were conducted by many colleagues, both fellow contributors and from the wider field. We would like to acknowledge and thank all who acted as reviewers for the volume: Professor Lesley Harbon, Honorary Associate Professor Susan Oguro, Dr Kevin Lowe, Dr Anya Lloyd-Smith, Dr Cathy Bow, Dr Sally Denshire, Penelope Sewell, Philip Moloney, Beth McLeod, Zohra Aly, Dr Jim Forrest, Dr Lisa Gilanyi, Professor Ingrid Pillar, Dr Yining Wang, Dr Chantal Crozet, Dr Yona Gilead, Professor Suzanne Rutland, and Dr Kevin Lowe. For their overview of the manuscript, thanks to Professor Fred Dervin, Professor Ken Cruickshank, Associate Professor Angela Scarino and Rev Simon Hansford, Moderator of the Synod of NSW and the ACT in the Uniting Church in Australia. We are grateful for the assistance of Willoughby and Northbridge Uniting Church in supporting costs. We would like to thank Dr Susan Poetsch of the University of Sydney for her help in facilitating narrator contacts. We thank Donald Moloney for assistance with graphics. We are also grateful for the input of Rev Dr Erica Mathieson and Rev Dr Ray Williamson, President of the New South Wales Ecumenical Council.

xiii

Contents

Part I 

   1

1 Introduction:  Language, Identity and Spirituality  3 Robyn Moloney and Father Shenouda Mansour 2 Living  Spiritualities on Country 27 Robyn Moloney 3 Living  Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 57 Robyn Moloney 4 Introduction:  Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 93 Robyn Moloney 5 The  Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit125 Robyn Moloney

xv

xvi Contents

Part II 

  153

6 Aboriginal  Language and Spirituality Within the Context of Riddim and Poetry: A Creative School Program155 Devrim Yilmaz and Michael Jarrett 7 Many  Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central Australia177 David Moore 8 Why  Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation and Indigenous Wellbeing197 Ghil’ad Zuckermann 9 Multilingualism  and Religion in a Multicultural Australia217 James Forrest 10 A  Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language in the Twenty-­First Century237 Father Shenouda Mansour and Ounas Gerges 11 Language  and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational Sojourners263 Lisa Gilanyi 12 Hakha  Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural and Spiritual Identity287 Salai Biak Za Lian Ching, Alistair Welsh, and Ramon Lopez Castellano 13 Christian  Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles of Migrant Integration307 Yining Wang and Ingrid Piller

 Contents 

xvii

14 The  Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality327 Zehavit Gross and Suzanne D. Rutland 15 The  Impact of Learning Language and Culture on Adolescents’ Identity Formation, Enculturation and Socialisation: A Case Study of a Pluralistic Faith-Based School351 Yona Gilead 16 Journey  into Indian Spirituality: A Westerner Perspective375 Chantal Crozet 17 Some  Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding, Personal Reflections and Professional Problems391 Joseph Lo Bianco Index

413

Notes on Contributors

Diane Alperstein  is an English teacher specialising in Special Needs, Gifted Education, Educational Psychology and English as a Second Language. She has taught for over thirty-five years in high schools and tertiary education around the world, first in South Africa, then Israel, Canada and finally, Australia. She taught for eighteen years at Macquarie University until 2018. During that time, she became increasingly interested in the importance of multicultural literacy and education. Teaching in this field has strongly contributed to her understanding of the power of language to permeate every area of our lifelong learning, spiritual, religious, social and emotional. Zohra Aly  is a trustee at Imam Hasan Centre, where she oversees the running of the Saturday school and helps to coordinate the adult lecture programs. She worked as a pharmacist for several years before turning to freelance writing. Zohra has recently completed her Masters in Creative Writing. She has four children. Ravi Anandarajah  is a development professional with experience in United Nations World Food Programs, School Feeding for Education and Save the Children UK. He is an experienced manager of people’s needs with many years’ experience in humanitarian aid, rehabilitation and resettlement for war victims. Ravi is Principal of the Tamil Community Language School and supports Tamil Saiva culture heritage. xix

xx 

Notes on Contributors

Ravi does extensive community work through Lions Clubs and religious organisations. He completed postgraduate studies in Engineering at University of Technology, Sydney, and acts as a Religious Liaison with the Detention and Correction Services in New South Wales. Mojgan Mokhatebi Ardakani  is a tertiary educator. She was awarded her PhD in Education and has worked as an academic in the Department of Educational Studies, Macquarie University, Sydney. In her doctoral research she studied primary school Persian heritage language learners in the community language schools in Sydney. She is the author of a number of academic chapters and articles. She has worked with the New South Wales Department of Education in developing new curriculum for Persian language learning. Gary Bouma  is Professor Emeritus of Sociology and the UNESCO Chair in interreligious and intercultural Relations-Asia Pacific at Monash University. His field is the governance of religious diversity. He is the author or co-author of 30 books and over 400 articles. Melanie Brown  is currently an English/HSIE teacher at a special assistance high school in Western Sydney. Melanie spent a decade living and working in Sana’a, Yemen. Her work in Sana’a was focused on holistic approaches to education and development of disadvantaged girls. This approach included ensuring girls had access to food, clothing and school supplies, as well as liaising with families to advocate for the education of their daughters. Aunty Louise Campbell  is from Gumbayngirr country, northern New South Wales, and is part of the Stolen Generation. Her grandmother and mother spoke a number of languages fluently. As a child she understood and spoke language but when she and her brothers were removed, they lost it. She trained and worked as a teacher, and then gained a Law degree at the University of New South Wales. She used that study to work for the NSW Aboriginal Land Council in the 1980s.She now works for the Catholic Education office, in the Diocese of Maitland-Newcastle. Alex Chistiakoff  is an Australian of a Russian / German background who came to Australia with his parents in the late 1950’s. He grew up in

  Notes on Contributors 

xxi

the outer suburbs of Brisbane and has retained his original language and culture. Alex is currently involved in local community issues in Sydney NSW. Alex is a practicing architect and lives with his family in Petersham NSW. Chantal Crozet  is an applied linguist and language teacher-researcher in French studies and Intercultural communication in the School of Global, Urban and Social Studies, RMIT University. Her research interests include French language and gender, religion and securalism in contemporary France, critical language & intercultural communication education, philosophical and spiritual perspectives in language & culture education. Her former publications in the latter area include: Crozet (2015) First, second, third place and beyond: Reflection on a philosophy of Self & Identity for Intercultural Language Teaching; Crozet (2014) The core tenets of education in ancient India, inspirations for modern times and Crozet (2006) The spiritual dimension of Intercultural Language Education. Varsha Daithankar  teaches Hindi language with the IABBV Hindi School, Sydney. She is involved also with Project management, and the collection of Hindi, Marathi and Gujarati resources at the Sydney Institute for Community Languages Education at the University of Sydney. She describes herself as an Australian with Indian roots. She volunteers at St Vincent De Paul society as well as acts as lead volunteer for various small community projects with Relationships Australia. Pandit Prakash Dhodari  is the founder of the Nepalese Hindu Society of Australia (NHSA). He completed a Shastri degree in Sanskrit from Mahendra Sanskrit University, Nepal. This degree enables graduates to become accredited Hindu Priests and Religious Teachers. He helps people conduct Hindu rituals for weddings, house warmings, birthday puja, naming ceremony, and funerals for the Nepalese community in Australia, since 2011, in the capacity of head priest of NHSA. He is a member of the Australian Council of Hindu Clergy Inc. and he is also a religious and civil marriage celebrant. Swati Doshi  is currently working as a Hindi Language teacher with IABBV Hindi School in Sydney and has been at the school for four years

xxii 

Notes on Contributors

now. Swati speaks three languages and understands a couple more. Though Gujarati is her mother tongue, she loves and respects all languages. She also works as a Project Officer with (SICLE) Sydney Institute for Community Languages and Education, through the University of Sydney. Swati serves the community as a volunteer coordinator of the Indian Cultural Group at the Mosaic Multicultural Centre, in Willoughby City Council, and is also a member of the Management team of an organisation working for the differently abled. Jaroslav Duma OAM  is currently the Honorary Consul of Ukraine in Sydney, and an active member of the Australian-Ukrainian community to which he has devoted most of his life through a myriad of “volunteer” positions in various community organisations. He is committed to his family, especially to his wife Mary, and has two married sons, all of whom are also active community members. Jaroslav places much emphasis on the importance of mentoring young people in values of community – espousing that “it takes a village to raise a child”, not just an education. Craig Duncan  is a proud Gamilaraay man and works at the Catholic Education office, in the Diocese of Maitland-Newcastle, working on Aboriginal Education policy and content. He has completed the Masters of Indigenous Language Education at the University of Sydney, and is planning PhD study. Craig believes that the value of Indigenous languages is now being increasingly recognised, and is an opportunity for all Aboriginal people who are interested in language, to revitalise and to speak language. James Forrest  is an Honorary Senior Research Fellow in the Department of Geography and Planning at Macquarie University, Sydney. For two decades, he has been researching racism in Australia as a member of the Challenging Racism project based at Western Sydney University. More recently, he has focused on the integration of Australian immigrants, most recently refining that focus to one aspect of immigrant integration: to geolinguistics, the geography and sociology of multilingualism in Australia. Here, he contributes towards extending this research into a hitherto neglected area, the role of religious involvement in heritage language maintenance.

  Notes on Contributors 

xxiii

Ounas Gerges  is a teacher and advocate for the Coptic language. Since his childhood he has been taught Coptic language by a renowned Coptic language scholar. Coptic language is his first spoken language. He has taught it for over 30 years in churches to deacons, priests and the Coptic community and is a senior lecturer at St Cyril’s Coptic Orthodox Theological College. He is a member of an online forum whose purpose is to revive and teach the language, and also to form Coptic words that may not be found in the Coptic vocabulary. Ounas is an avid skier. Lisa Gilanyi  is a researcher in the School of Education at the University of New South Wales. She is passionate about exploring the different ways that individuals develop and express their identities through language. Her research interests include language learning and use in permanent and temporary migration, first and second language literacy development, language choice in bilingual families, and the role of language and literacy in participation (or exclusion) in society. Yona Gilead  is the Malka Einhorn Modern Hebrew Senior Lecturer and Program Coordinator at the department of Hebrew, Biblical and Jewish Studies at the University of Sydney. She teaches Modern Hebrew as an additional language (L2), including at beginners, intermediate and advanced levels. Her recent research centres on two main areas: faith-­ based schools’ impact on and contribution to students’ identity formation, inculturation and socialisation into their local and wider Australian communities, Acquisition of Modern Hebrew from a learner perspective. Zehavit Gross  BA, MA, PhD, Dip Ed., is Professor, Head of the graduate program of Management and Development in Informal Education Systems in the School of Education, and the UNESCO Chair in Education for Human Values, Tolerance and Peace at Bar-Ilan University, Israel, Honorary Research Associate in the Department of Hebrew, Biblical & Jewish Studies, University of Sydney and specializes in religious and Jewish education, gender studies and Holocaust and peace education. She won recently (2020) the Israeli Hope in Higher Education Award from Ben Gurion University, Israel, for her unique interfaith project between Israeli Muslim, Christian and Jewish students.

xxiv 

Notes on Contributors

John Hajek  is Professor of Italian Studies and Director of the Research Unit for Multilingualism and Cross-cultural Communication (RUMACCC) at the University of Melbourne. He was born and raised in an ethnically mixed family in the western suburbs of Melbourne, where few spoke English at home and life for migrant families centred around the extended family – with little interaction outside it or their ethnic communities. Through his academic work, he remains committed to supporting and understanding all aspects of multicultural life in Australia. John Harris  has had a lifelong interest in Aboriginal people and holds a PhD in Aboriginal languages. He retired as Director of Translation in Bible Society Australia. He continues working with Indigenous people in translating the Christian Bible, particularly into endangered languages. These new texts model the way the language was spoken, thus becoming a tool for their revival. John is the author of One Blood, his award-­ winning study of Christianity in Aboriginal Australia. He was awarded the prestigious Lambeth Doctor of Divinity by the Archbishop of Canterbury and Her Majesty the Queen for his ‘advocacy on behalf of Aboriginal people’. Harumi Hayakawa  is a teacher and writer. She teaches Japanese language and culture. She writes for Japanese media. She was born and bred in a suburb of Tokyo. Her childhood hero was Robinson Crusoe. After traveling to many places, she settled in the Blue Mountains, New South Wales. She enjoys living there and spending time in natural settings. She describes herself as spiritual rather than religious. For a long time, she felt there was conflict between science and spirituality. However, after her mother passed away, this conflict dissolved. Truth can be expressed in different ways. Abdullah Ibrahim  is presently an Indonesian teacher at the New South Wales School of Languages where he has taught for 15 years. Born in New Zealand to monolingual parents he has spent most of his life in Australia working in both Brisbane and Sydney. He has an Indonesian wife and four children and is constantly busy with school work.

  Notes on Contributors 

xxv

Michael Jarrett is a Gumbaynggirr Man from Nambucca Heads (Nyambaga), northern New South Wales. He began formal learning in 1997 when he attended Gumbaynggirr language classes at Muurrbay Language Centre. Michael has completed the Masters in Indigenous Languages Education, University of Sydney. The degree made Gumbaynggirr come alive through phonology, syntax, grammar and semantics and he is now a confident speaker. He works as an educator in different contexts, and has produced resources for the New South Wales Board of Studies, the Department of Education, Muurrbay language centre, universities and other language organisations. Rabbi Zalman Kastel AM  is National Director of the multi-faith based Together for Humanity Foundation that fosters Intercultural Understanding in Schools. Rabbi Kastel was raised in the “ultra-­orthodox” Chasidic tradition in the racially divided Crown Heights area of Brooklyn New York. He saw the world through the lens of his absolute tradition and the narrative of his community. This changed in 2001, when encounters with Christians and Muslims transformed him. He has embraced others as he learned their stories and cultural terminology, while engaged in helping 400,000 Australian to embrace others. Kayleen Kerwin  is a proud Paakantyi woman from Wilcannia, western New South Wales. She heard a lot of language from Elders when she was growing up, but there was no language taught. Now, only five people speak the language fluently, so it is regarded as endangered. She teaches Paakantyi at the Menindee Central School, to all students. Kayleen has contributed to professional development for other teachers, and to the production of resources. Paakantyi recorded stories are held by at the NSW State Library stories, Museum of Contemporary Art, and in the Sydney Royal Botanic Gardens. Tamara Kotoyan  is a twenty-four-year-old recent graduate from the University of Sydney, gaining a degree in Bachelor of Arts and Commerce, majoring in Government and International Politics and Commercial law. She is a proud Armenian, having grown up in the Armenian Australian community, where she has taken up volunteer roles in her local church and community organisations. She has worked as an English tutor for

xxvi 

Notes on Contributors

many years and is now looking to expand into the field of politics with the desire to enact positive social change in Australia and abroad. Jianlian Liang is a teacher and Curriculum Coordinator at the International Chinese School in Sydney, where she has been a staff member since 2020. Before that she taught in government schools for 9 years. Jianlian completed her PhD at Macquarie University and her undergraduate studies at University of Auckland, New Zealand. She has collaborated actively with researchers in other disciplines of language and identity, language and faith, bilingual education, CLIL (Content and language integrated learning). Jianlian has authored a number of scholarly chapters and articles, and has presented at a number of international conferences and workshops. Salai Biak Za Lian Ching  is a final-year PhD student in Sociolinguistic studies at Deakin University in Australia. His doctoral research investigates minority community language shift and maintenance, habitual language use in social domains (home and family, friendship, church and community organisations and social media), code-switching, minority language policy, language status and language attitudes. He received his MA in Translating and Interpreting Studies at RMIT University. In his minor thesis, he explored medical terminology rendition techniques employed by professional Hakha Chin / English interpreters. Joseph Lo Bianco  is Professor Emeritus in the Graduate School of Education, University of Melbourne Australia. He is a specialist in minority language rights, literacy and social opportunity, multilingualism, language policy and peacebuilding. In recent years he has been engaged by UNESCO and UNICEF in Southeast Asian settings to lead language policy research and writing teams, for which he devised a method of facilitated dialogue. In 1987 he authored Australia’s first national language policy, between 1990 and 2002 was Director of Language Australia/ The National Languages and Literacy Institute of Australia. Ramon Lopez Castellano  is a Lecturer in the School of Humanities and Social Sciences at Deakin University in Australia. A philologist and literary critic by training, his research interests include a wide range of issues related to cultures, society and identity. He has published on such

  Notes on Contributors 

xxvii

topics as depictions of violence in cinema, contemporary Spanish poetry, translation and popular music. His recent publications include works on youth cultures, music and marginalised identities in the Spanish-­ speaking world. Glenn Loughrey  is an Anglican Priest in the Diocese of Melbourne and Vicar at St Oswald’s, Glen Iris. He identifies as a First Nations Person and is proud to be Wiradjuri. He is an artist, writer and speaker whose style is at the intersection of the two worlds in which he lives, the First Nation Heritage of his father and the Englishness of his mother. His art and writing recognises both the originality and the similarity of his two worlds and is an authentic attempt to keep them in conversation. Father Shenouda Mansour  is an ordained priest of the Coptic Orthodox Church. He came to Australia from Egypt at the age of 6. His PhD investigated attitudes to identity, culture and language in a Coptic school community. He is the General Secretary of NSW Ecumenical Council, a body which strives to build good relationships, break barriers, and to build networking with churches. He has ongoing interest in identity, culture, language, religious and spiritual formation. He is the director of Coptic Orthodox Community Outreach Service, and is a regular radio program producer. He believes in being a social activist to build a better society. Aunty Diane McNaboe  is a proud Wiradjuri woman. Her father was Wiradjuri (Dubbo area) and her mother was Gamilaraay Nation (Moree area). Diane teaches Wiradjuri language at Dubbo College, Delroy Campus. She has been teaching language and culture for over 30 years on Country. She has trained many others to teach, with currently 24 school programs operating. Diane has promoted bilingual signage in her town, in the town’s biodiversity gardens, in government offices and in schools. Sook Hee McRoberts  was Korean Language Consultant, Curriculum Support Directorate and Korean Project Officer, Training and Development Directorate at New South Wales Department of Education for 15 years. She was a high school teacher in South Korea for 4 years before migrating to Australia in 1981. She currently works as a casual

xxviii 

Notes on Contributors

teacher for schools which have both primary and secondary Korean language programs. Mala Mehta OAM  is the President/Honorary Founder IABBV Hindi School. She has pursued a career of voluntary teaching of the Hindi language promoting music, dance and theatre. In 2006 Mala became the first Indian woman to be awarded the Order of Australia Medal (OAM) for community service through establishing the IABBV Hindi School and providing assistance to new migrants. She received the Pravasi Bhartiya Samman Award (2015) from the President of India in acknowledgement of her achievement in the field of Education and Community Service and in recognition of her contribution to promoting India and fostering the interests of overseas Indians. Venerable Miaoyou  is a Buddhist Nun based at the Nan Tien Temple, near Wollongong, New South Wales. Her role in the Temple is Special Projects Coordinator including the construction and early development of the Nan Tien institute (Australia’s first Buddhist institute of higher learning) of which she is Director and Company Secretary. Her passion is education and meditation and she believes that the Buddhist discipline can change lives for the better. She is also passionate about community engagement and interfaith dialogues and she believes in working with other religious leaders and organisations to promote peace and harmony Robyn Moloney  is a languages educator. She taught French, German and Japanese in schools for many years and following this, moved to the role of a lecturer and teacher educator at Macquarie University, Sydney, for ten years. Her doctoral study, and subsequent research, investigated students’ and teachers’ intercultural learning through language. Her many book and journal publications have covered aspects of classroom practice and professional development within learning and teaching. As an Honorary Senior Lecturer, she now acts as an educational consultant, working with schools to develop understanding of the intercultural capability in the curriculum and broader school environment. David Moore  is a linguist, interpreter, translator and educator based in Alice Springs of the Northern Territory of Australia. His PhD thesis

  Notes on Contributors 

xxix

‘German Lutheran missionaries and the linguistic description of Central Australian languages 1890–1910’ was completed at the University of Western Australia in 2019. Initially working as a layworker and Bible translator for Finke River Mission in the Alyawarr language, he has recently worked as an interpreter and forensic linguist in the Alyawarr and Anmatjerr languages in courts and tribunals of Central Australia and has recently taught courses in the Arrernte language at the Alice Springs Language Centre. Dich Dao Muc  lived for many years in Australia but is currently is a lecturer at the Faculty of Vietnamese Studies, University of Social Sciences and Humanities, Vietnam National University, Ho Chi Minh City. Dich Dao Muc does research in Vietnamese language of the Vietnamese Australian community, Vietnamese phonetics and Second language acquisition. Corina Wayali Norman  is a Dharug/Dharawal woman with deep connections to multiple clanal Countries. She also has links to Te-atiahu nui a paparangi te iwi in Whanganui, New Zealand. Corina has an interest in respectful memorialisation. Her dedication to culture and broader First Peoples culture is evident in her ways of seeking opportunities for their voices to be heard and respected. In her words, “truth telling and sharing all things pertaining to our culture, connections and responsibilities to ngurra as-Country and to each other.” She facilitates cultural knowledge and practices, weaving in Traditional culture and protocol into a contemporary framework. Ingrid Piller is Distinguished Professor of Applied Linguistics at Macquarie University. Her research expertise is in intercultural communication, language learning, multilingualism, and bilingual education. She is the author of the multi-award-winning Linguistic Diversity and Social Justice (Oxford University Press, 2016), the bestselling Intercultural Communication (Edinburgh University Press, 2nd ed., 2017), and numerous other publications. She serves as editor-in-­chief of the international sociolinguistics journal Multilingua (De Gruyter Mouton) and edits the web portal Language on the Move. She tweets about linguistic diversity @lg_on_the_move.

xxx 

Notes on Contributors

Zainab Taylor Rizvi  is a devoted servant of Allah, who has spent her life serving the community. Zainab lives out the meaning of philanthropist, in the literal term of ‘the love of humanity’, by spending her free time giving back to youth and community when and where support is needed. Zainab provides educational Islamic lectures to youth and women. She also works full time with the NSW Department of Education as a Student Learning Support Officer in a Primary Support Unit, working mostly with autistic children, and is also studying for a Diploma of Community Services. Judit Rubinstein  is a Hebrew teacher and coordinator at various public schools working for the Board of Jewish Education. She was involved in the writing of the Hebrew curriculum for primary schools and she is a leader in the development of resources and the selection of Hebrew textbooks for all levels. Judit provides professional development for teachers and she helps them with lesson planning and student assessments. Judit grow up in a small Jewish town in Argentina which inspired her to take her on Hebrew language studies and to participate in Hebrew Bible competitions from an early age. Suzanne D. Rutland  OAM, BA (Hons), MA (Hons), PhD, Dip Ed., is Professor Emerita in the Department of Hebrew, Biblical & Jewish Studies, University of Sydney. She specializes in Australian Jewish history, the Holocaust, Israel and Jewish education. Her book, Let My People Go: The Untold Story of Australia and Soviet Jews, 1959—1989, co-­ written with Sam Lipski, was the joint winner of the 2016 Prime Minister’s Literary Award [Australian History]. Her latest book, co-­ authored with Professor Zehavit Gross, is Special Religious Education in Australia and its Value to Contemporary Society (Springer). She is a member of the Australian expert delegation for the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance. Milind Sathye  is Professor of Banking and Finance at the University of Canberra. His interest in western and eastern philosophy dates back to many years. He delivers talks in the philosophy and religion programs of the Bhishma Institute of Indic Studies, India, the Nan Tien Institute, Wollongong and the Hindu Council of Australia.

  Notes on Contributors 

xxxi

Nathan Schreiber teaches Gunggay language, at the Yarrabah State School, north of Cairns, Queensland. Nathan creates all the programs and resources from the ground up, including the groundwork of putting the endangered language together, in order to teach it. Nathan was raised close to his grandmother and remembers listening and learning from her. He describes his language learning as like a big jigsaw puzzle, finding the pieces and how they fit together. Nathan has completed a Masters of Indigenous language Education (MILE) at University of Sydney. Susitina Suli  is a Tongan-Australian woman navigating Western and Tongan culture. She is the daughter of Uniting Church minister Rev. Charissa Suli and Langi Suli and is the eldest of four children. She is currently studying a Bachelor of Social Science majoring in Psychology at Western Sydney University and is the Children and Youth Worker at Willoughby and Northbridge Uniting Church of North Sydney. She enjoys working and engaging with people of all faiths and all walks of life and enjoys spending time with family and friends. Matagi Vilitama  is a Mission and Leadership Presbytery Minister of the Georges River Presbytery of the Uniting Church. He came to Australia in 2008 and is committed both to the support of Niuen culture and to cross-cultural ministry. He is the advocate for the Multicultural Circle of Interest in the Assembly of the Uniting church. He has composed over 50 songs for church service. He is passionate about Niuen identity and faith, carried though his language. Yining Wang is currently an honorary post-doctoral fellow in the Department of Linguistics at Macquarie University. Her research areas cover bilingual education, multilingualism, and Chinese immigrant religion. She completed her PhD at Macquarie University in 2020. Her PhD thesis examines the heritage language maintenance of Chinese migrant children in Australia. Trish Watts is a Singer/Songwriter, a registered Voice Movement Therapy Practitioner, a Performing Artist, Educator and Community Choir Director. Believing passionately that ‘Every life can SING’, she specializes in voicing who we truly are. Her life work is anchored in the bedrock of ‘play’ and she celebrates 30 years as co-founder of InterPlay

xxxii 

Notes on Contributors

Australia- a community arts practice. Trish has travelled Australia, the UK, Europe, USA, India, South Africa and Cambodia, as artist, teacher, performer and facilitator. She is a published songwriter and recording artist with Willow Publishing: ­www.willowpublishing.com.au Alistair Welsh  is a Senior Lecturer in the School of Humanities and Social Sciences at Deakin University in Australia. His research interests are interdisciplinary and relate to socio-linguistic research involving identity and discourse. He has published in interdisciplinary fields ranging from intercultural issues in educational contexts to analysis of Indonesian political discourse. Teuku Chalidin Yacob  is a leader of the Muslim community, especially among the Indonesian and Malay communities of Australia. He has lectured in numerous Islamic associations of various Australian Universities. Dr Chalidin Yacob attained a Masters and PhD degree in Islamic Education from the University of Malaya, Kuala Lumpur. Since arriving in Australia, Dr Chalidin has acted in many cities as an Imam, and he founded Ashabul Kahfi Islamic Centre in 1998. He is currently a member of ANIC (Australian National Imam Council), a Shariah Advisor for AFIC (Australian Federation Islamic Council) and a chairman for DMDI (the Malay and Islamic World) Australia chapter. Devrim Yilmaz  is a lecturer in the School of Education at the University of New England. He teaches postgraduate units in the English, Literacies and Language Education, and Contextual Studies teams. He also supervises master’s, EdD and PhD students. Some of the units he teaches are Society, Language and Culture, Linguistics for Language Teachers, and Teaching for Cultural Diversity. His research interests include dialectology of South Eastern European dialects of Turkish; etymology of common words and phrases in South Eastern European languages; Indigenous languages of Australia; and culturally responsive pedagogy. Archbishop Mar Meelis Zaia is the Metropolitan of the Assyrian Church of the East, Archdiocese of Australia, New Zealand and Lebanon. The church is a member of the National Council of Churches in Australia, and the Ecumenical Council of New South Wales. He is head of the Assyrian community of over 27,000 in NSW and over 7000 in Victoria.

  Notes on Contributors 

xxxiii

He was appointed bishop for the newly established diocese of Sydney and arrived in Sydney in March 1985. He was consecrated Metropolitan in 2008 by HH Mar Dinkha IV Catholicos Patriarch of the Assyrian Church of the East. He is co-chair of the Catholic Church and Assyrian Church Dialogue Committee. Ghil’ad Zuckermann  is Chair of Linguistics and Endangered Languages at the University of Adelaide. He is a chief investigator in a large research project assessing language revival and mental health, funded by Australia’s National Health and Medical Research Council (NHMRC). He is the founder of Revivalistics, a new trans-disciplinary field of enquiry surrounding language reclamation, revitalization and reinvigoration. In 2011 he launched, with the Barngarla Aboriginal communities of Eyre Peninsula, South Australia, the reclamation of the Barngarla language. Professor Zuckermann is elected member of the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies (AIATSIS) and the Foundation for Endangered Languages (FEL).

List of Figures

Fig. 1.1

Model of process, domains and outcomes of linguistic and spiritual identity Fig. 6.1 Riddim and poetry cyclea Fig. 7.1 The foundation stone of multi-coloured conglomerate rock representing the diversity of the Alice Springs congregation Fig. 7.2 The Old Lutheran Church in Alice Springs Fig. 10.1 Conceptual model for the revitalisation of the coptic language in the twenty-first century

14 161 178 180 254

xxxv

List of Tables

Table 8.1

Comparison of reclamation, revitalization and reinvigoration of language Table 8.2 Goals of language activities; data drawn from the second, most recent, National Indigenous languages survey (NILS2) report and analysed by Marmion, Obata and Troy (2014) Table 9.1 Main religious groups, 2006–2016. Australia as a whole Table 9.2 Australia: population change 2006–2016 Table 9.3 Religion and Western European languages Table 9.4 Religion with Southern, South Eastern and Eastern European languages Table 9.5 Religion with Middle Eastern and SW Asian lanuages Table 9.6 Religion and languages of the Indian subcontinent Table 9.7 Religion and Chinese languages Table 15.1 A detailed distribution into Year-groups of accumulative ‘important’ category to the five topics of ‘Jewish learning and living’ and engagement with Israel Table 15.2 Responses per Year-groups to the element ‘Learning Modern Hebrew’ Table 15.3 A detailed distribution into Year-groups of accumulative ‘important’ category to the nine identity elements of Jewish peoplehood

198

209 219 221 225 227 229 231 232 358 364 366

xxxvii

Part I

1 Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality Robyn Moloney and Father Shenouda Mansour

Introduction This book gives voice to experiences of linguistic and spiritual identity in the Australian landscape. Narrative writers and researchers share their perspectives and unfold issues and emotions at the complex intersection of languages, religion and spirituality. Languages are a key feature of life in all global communities, but particularly in those countries where the diversity includes both First Nations people and diaspora populations. We know that membership of language communities and active language learning both support a sense of belonging and identity, and contribute to the personal, social and spiritual wellbeing of individuals and the country. Language is everywhere connected R. Moloney (*) School of Education, Macquarie University, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] F. S. Mansour NSW Ecumenical Council, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_1

3

4 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

to the heart of identity and spirit, the deepest understandings expressed and understood in words and ideas. For all of us, languages and all that is involved in cultures, are our deep connection to place, and to others. In a time of global pandemic, in which this volume has been produced, there has been continuing anxiety, isolation and grief. This has sharpened the need for dialogue and interconnection both globally and locally. The provision of adequate COVID information in the multiple languages of Sydney, for example, has been a major medical welfare challenge of this time. The need for community and dialogue in shared languages has become greater than ever before, in supporting mental health and welfare. Traditional religious practices in physical spaces have had to close for extended periods. This has been a great personal loss to many individuals, loss of community, language use, and spiritual direction. Technologies have enabled the shift, for some, to innovative online participation, dialogue, teaching and learning activities. Many religious and non-religious people have turned to meditation, most commonly in their first (or ‘heart’) language, to support spiritual and physical wellbeing. In all domains, we need leadership and social practice which recognise and encompass the wide scope of cultural and linguistic backgrounds. Languages have a numinous capacity to give shape to experiences of the self and each other, to expressions of joy, and of the divine. Attitudes and policies in regard to languages have also been, and continue to be, a site of loss, grief and conflict. And yet, there remains insistent and urgent desire to reclaim, to revitalise, to teach and pass on language and identity. Languages remain a vital source of discovery of the self and the world. It’s the best form of Reconciliation, learning about one another’s languages. (Aunty Diane Mc Naboe, Wiradjuri teacher, Chap. 2).

This volume is a deliberate hybrid, a complementary pairing of personal narratives and research studies, to offer readers two levels of understanding and personal engagement. Part 1 is a unique collection of thirty-six personal narratives from individuals for whom a language is central to their understanding of identity, spirit, belonging and Country. The narrators are community members, teachers, learners, researchers. We acknowledge and appreciate their effort to craft, push and prod some

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

5

of their most intimate thoughts into English words that undoubtedly were limited in conveying the full shape of their intent. Part 2 presents twelve research studies from outstanding scholars. These diverse studies explore issues of language identity, Indigenous language experience, encounters between Indigenous Australia and Christianity, language revitalisation projects, studies of interculturality shaped by language learning in a faith context, and diaspora experience of language and faith. Our goal is to stimulate learning and awareness of this largely neglected aspect of multilingual Australia. We make no claim to be comprehensive or all-inclusive. We actively sought narrative contributors over twelve months, through many channels, but there are many more voices and languages we would have liked to include. The backgrounds of the editors reflect the volume’s interconnected and intercultural concerns. Dr. Robyn Moloney is a languages educator and an honorary research academic. The Very Rev. Dr. Father Shenouda Mansour is a priest in the Coptic Orthodox Church and General Secretary of New South Wales Ecumenical Council. We are non-Indigenous Australian educators, without authority in Indigenous languages and writing, and we deeply respect and thank our First Nations contributors. As editors, we are neither sociologists nor academic theologians. We took an editorially simple approach to a complex domain. The volume respects the heterogeneous nature of the material it examines. It imposes no universalising theory, or prescribed ideology against which the studies and narratives are placed. It generates its own complexity. Our process has been one of dialogue and progressive learning. Editors have dialogued with each other, developing our understanding of our intent and of the emerging submissions. We have dialogued with contributors, some of whom have written for the first time for publication. We have dialogued with our respective professional communities, with Indigenous communities, and with diaspora communities, in seeking contributors. The volume has an internal dialogue, across the studies and narratives. And we hope that the reader will engage in reflective dialogue with both their own intercultural self, and with the contributors, in responding to the voices of the volume.

6 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

This chapter presents our rationale for the volume and addresses core issues and understanding of terminology surrounding intercultural lives, language, religion and spirituality. We briefly discuss the significance of narratives. From our analysis of commonalities across the volume, we offer a conceptual model of the domains of linguistic and spiritual identities. We overview the contents of the entire volume, and we offer our own short personal narratives.

Why This Volume? We pursued the idea of this volume with several outcomes in mind. The volume contributes to a movement currently highlighting aspects of multilingual life in Australia (for example a previous volume which portrayed Multilingual Sydney (Chik et al., 2018)). A more complex and nuanced portrayal of multilingual Australia is needed to increase public understanding of the many stories of cultural and linguistic diversity. It was our goal to provide illustration of a hitherto neglected aspect of multilingualism, namely the joint significance of languages and spirituality in people’s lives. This has only been infrequently explored globally (Omoniyi & Fishman, 2006) and not at all in Australia. Secondly, as a volume which spans cultures and languages, it is intercultural in outlook. Much writing has focussed on intercultural studies in educational contexts (Dervin, 2016). We wanted to pursue the idea that intercultural identities can also involve inter-religious dialogue (Wolf, 2012). An intercultural identity may, for many individuals, mean both an intercultural religious and linguistic identity. We suggest that it is not possible to have intercultural dialogue which encompasses the whole of people’s lives, without including inter-faith encounters and their languages. The theologian Tillich (1963) wrote that we need four conditions for meaningful inter-religious dialogue: an interest in the other’s ground, the ability to communicate one’s own ground, the discovery of common ground, and an openness to critique. These conditions are not simple to develop. But they are all involved if we engage deeply with an intercultural experience, when we see that a home culture, rather than being an

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

7

assumed invisible norm, is one amongst others, visible, special, and worthy of ‘explanation’ to another. When I am involved in an exchange of information between my own and another’s ground, new information about myself comes back to me in the exchange, and I am changed by it, and able to explain myself with greater clarity. In this process, we discover the humanity of common ground. The intercultural goal is to perceive that every individual’s life is ‘culture’ and needs to be confidently framed and articulated, as a fluid component of the multiple whole. Pannikar (1979) refers to ‘depth-dialogue’ as ‘a way of knowing myself and of disentangling my own point of view from other viewpoints and from me’. In this relationship context, there is a role for the other, in helping us to develop our communication of our truth, and our bigger grasp of both the world, and the spirit in the world. This book illustrates that both languages and inter-faith work can be instruments of recognition and Reconciliation, because they teach us not to perceive the world from one narrow perspective but from the multiplicity and complexity of meanings in the global world. Common themes connect the narratives and studies presented in this volume. Following is a brief discussion of how the understanding of these themes, identity, culture, languages and spirituality, is constantly developing.

Language and Intercultural Life Language is about what connects us, not what sets us apart. (Aunty Louise Campbell, Chap. 2)

For all of us, our world is mediated by language from the time we learn to communicate, but this is for many a multi-layered process. If we are moving between two or more different languages, the mediation involves different worldviews, and belief. Our contributors, whether researchers or narrators, live in and move across intercultural settings. Those in diaspora communities comment on their desire to find their ‘own place’ in new cultural contexts and cast the role of language(s) as central in shaping their sense of belonging.

8 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

The German philosopher Heidegger (1978) proposed that language and Being are closely interwoven. Language is a “house of Being,” creating an abode in which humans and all things can be. The human being, for Heidegger, is not the powerful Subject that has a language at his or her disposal. Instead, it is language which brings beings to light. It is not humans who are the masters of language, but rather language itself which speaks, and humans become human only in response to language. Many of our narrative contributors do not write or speak about language, but think or speak from out of their language’s reality. Language in this volume is an expression of membership and belonging to a group or to a religion or spirituality. Languages are linked in multiple ways to the environments in which people live and their cultural, social, historical, geographical and political realities. And yet, many of the languages used by our participants and research subjects are spoken only by a small community, and writers voice concern about language growth and health. A scholarly framework used to analyse the vitality of community (heritage) languages has established that three principles of Capacity development, Opportunity creation, and Desire (COD) (Lo Bianco & Peyton, 2013) must be present for language growth. Capacity development refers to the development of personal language proficiency and language use, through both formal teaching, and informal transmission. Opportunity Creation is the development of contexts in which the use of the language is natural and welcome. Desire involves creation of investment (motivation) in learning the language, where proficiency brings (emotional and other) rewards. This model particularly recognises important social aspects of language use. The model points out that to succeed, language revival efforts must invest simultaneously in all three components. We believe that the language development seen in our contributors illustrates the value of this model, and that spiritual/religious settings are strongly contributing to each aspect of COD. Participants are involved in personal quests for language proficiency, through teaching, learning, and interaction. Church communities, language schools, and Indigenous language teaching/learning efforts are the contexts in which the use of the language is made natural and welcome. But it is particularly Desire which informs the special creation of personal motivation, where proficiency

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

9

brings group membership, comprehension of spiritual practice, belonging, and security. In the scholarship of language learning motivation, the idea of the Second Language Self (Dörnyei & Ushioda, 2009), (or the L2 self ) describes the power of imagining an idealised sense of who I can be in the future as an accomplished speaker of the language. This ideal, which drives motivation, is nourished by schools, homes, and faith communities involved in the language use. For many in this volume, there is a Self (both linguistic and spiritual) which people aspire to, which is a positive driver in their lives in Australian society. The notion of ‘intercultural’ is key to this volume. The term ‘multicultural’ in the Australian context has often involved only one-way observation of a minority ‘other’ by a dominant group (Hage, 2012; Stratton, 1999; Jakubowicz, 1988). The term íntercultural is meant to convey the idea of a two-way critical learning exchange between individuals, where, through respectful critical learning, both individuals become aware of how he/she appears to others. This can be challenging but is increasingly recognised as an essential learning model for the twenty-first century. As millions of individuals migrate and interact, or simply stay at home and talk to neighbours, ‘intercultural individuals’ are becoming the twenty-­ first century social force and presence. The voices of this volume demonstrate that these individuals have a sensitivity and understanding towards the experiences and perceptions of people they meet, rather than merely copying and acquiring ways of responding to people who are ‘other’. Earlier we used the notion of dialogue as core to this book’s intercultural inception. Our participants dialogue with us and show how one language may illuminate another, illustrating Bakhtin’s idea that perhaps “identity is linguistically co-constructed and dialogically dependent on the discourse of others” (Bakhtin, 1986). Dialogue changes the two communicators in each other’s presence. It also connects us as readers to distant writers, and connects present texts to past texts. Dialogue enables us to see ourselves from the outside and to self-reflect (Bakhtin, 1981).

10 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

Religion and Spirituality Language mediates religious and spiritual experience in Australia. The experience of spirituality, for some, is focussed on the land, being on Country, while for others the focus may be on religious liturgy, art and music. The diversity speaks of community, faith, identity, meaning and deep spiritual experience, and of language as the powerful expression of these. We offer a brief understanding of our key terms here. Spirituality has to do with the non-material dimension of human identity that provides meaning and purpose, value, identity and a world-­ view that shapes behaviour. It concerns what we think, what we do, how we understand ourselves and our lives, how we value one another and the creation. Spirituality exhibits as much variety as there are human beings who express it. It deals with concerns of ‘the heart’, and is, by preference, expressed in the heart’s first language. Spirituality is not a separate part of human experience, but ideally reflects the whole of us in the way we connect our bodies, emotions, minds and environment. Religion is a distinct term though not independent of spirituality. It refers to the sets of beliefs and practices that frame and express spirituality. It is the space where matters of the spirit can be explored, shared and shaped. Where people recognise a shared set of beliefs and practices, religion is the term that applies to that community (Bouma, 2006a). In Australia, such religious community can be found in church, synagogue, mosque or temple, in people’s homes or outdoors in the natural world, engaging in ritual actions, sharing silence or song, or listening to sacred texts in people’s first or ‘heart’ languages, and in languages understood to be sacred. The use of sacred language in ritual contexts can create a sense of community across time and space, of being part of an enduring tradition beyond the immediate group. Several of the voices in this book speak of this sense of continuity. Religion at its best deepens and expands spirituality. Religion can provide insight beyond the self that facilitates spiritual growth and transformation. Not all religion, of course, functions in life-giving, life-enhancing ways. The criterion identified across religious traditions as providing a

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

11

measure for authentic and life-giving religion, is the practice of compassion or love (Armstrong, 2010). Religion may open spirituality to transcendence, and people speak variously of encounter with God or the numinous, of a deep awareness of connection to Country and to others. Our contributors suggest that it may represent a shared solidarity that is inclusive and non-­discriminatory. We also witness perhaps the inadequacy of language to communicate the ineffable (Wittgenstein, 2010). Yet language is the medium in which our religious identity and search can be addressed. In a number of traditions, the notion of language – Word – provides a metaphor for the continuing, creative activity of God. In the Biblical creation story in Genesis 1, and similarly represented in other creation stories, God speaks the universe into existence as an outpouring of love and creativity. The divine Word gives birth to the cosmos, bringing forth life and light and landscape, engendering order and being, in all its complexity, out of the darkness of chaos. The creative Word does not stop with the initial act of creation. In the Christian scriptures, John 1.1–14, the divine Word (Logos) is present and active throughout the universe, through all time and in every place. It is uttered into the world of our experience, giving meaning to all human endeavour. In the Christian tradition, Jesus is understood to be the self-expression of God, God’s Word spoken in a human life. The Word, words, language are understood to be powerful, capable of expressing truth, and yet, paradoxically, finding their most compelling expression not in a text but in a life. In their own distinctive ways, all religious traditions discern the expression, or the Word, of God and have an equally rich vocabulary to give life to its understanding. They all open us to the possibility of listening with an attentive ear. The idea of the Word connects us to the conviction that God speaks language, my language, First Nations’ language, ‘heart’ language, the language by which I come to understand myself, and encourages the exploration of the interplay between language, religion and spirituality. Music plays a connective role in language and spirituality in many of the narratives. Our Indigenous language educators embed their language within simple songs for teaching, memory support, and children’s growth. Corina Norman (Chap. 2) wants to ‘sing up the country’ and Indigenous

12 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

narrators mention the Songlines of the Australian landscape. These trace journeys of ancestral spirits as they created the land, animals and lore, a source of knowledge and wisdom to Indigenous people. Alex Chistiakoff’s life (Chap. 3) is enriched by the transcendent music of the Russian Orthodox church service. Harumi Hayakawa suggests that chants have power even when the meaning of the words is unfamiliar. Harumi notes the calming physicality of song and chant, being transported to other places and times, where ‘the differentiation between my culture and other cultures disappears’. Trisha Watts (Chap. 5) in the multilingual Taizé community, observes that when songs are repeated as a chant, the heart, soul and mind remember and engage with prayer. We thank our musical contributors for illustrating the place of music and song in the intersection of Language and Spirit.

The Value of Narratives The inclusion of both narratives and research studies was a deliberate choice for this volume. While academic studies provide in-depth formal analysis of the “what”, first-person narratives showcase the “heart” and the “who”, in the intersection of language and spirit. Important and informative work has analysed census statistics relating to languages and religions in the Australian context (Bouma, 2006b; Chik et al., 2019). Narratives elaborate on the everyday social life-worlds of those statistics. A narrative is a starting point for understanding “the social construction of each person’s subjectivity” (Pavlenko, 2001), what it is that makes them see things and act as they do. Our intent is that readers are drawn into the narrator’s life experience in ways that create empathy, understanding and reflection and to respond intellectually, emotionally and morally (Goodson et al., 2013; Connelly, 2017). The narrative has capacity to show the landscape features such as social movement, human migration, histories, losses and griefs, all of which have impacted on the teller. Thoughtful readers will learn a great deal about both the individual case, but also about a changed and changing Australian society, from the voices of our contributors. Using similar mode, the Belarusian writer Svetlana Alexievich was awarded the 2015

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

13

Nobel Prize in Literature for her collections of narrative monologues, referred to in the Nobel award as her ‘polyphonic writings, a monument to suffering and courage in our time’. We underline that none of the narrators should be regarded as spokesperson for any particular ethnic, religious or language group. The narratives need to be seen as the work of generous individuals who have offered a personal story of their particular experience of language use within spiritual environments. At the conclusion of this chapter, the editors offer their own narrative histories, to extend the commitment to ‘self among others’ (Amadasi & Holliday, 2018) with our participants. We do this to honour the openness and honesty shown by our narrative writers, and to offer further illustration of how identity, languages, religion and spirituality have shaped our involvement as editors. The rationale for this volume has been personal in its inception, and the exploration of languages and spirituality is ongoing.

Developing a Model of Linguistic and Spiritual Identity The rationale for this collection of Australian studies and narratives has been shaped by our respective interests in three disciplines, Applied Linguistics, Sociology, and Cultural and Religious Studies. This intersection is a complex area, where many factors are at play. We have said that no pre-conceived theoretical model has been applied to this collection of personal narratives and studies. However, although the findings of our investigation are not themselves critically analysed and theorized into an argument, we venture a conceptualization of the views we have formed, in the following diagram (Fig. 1.1). From our close and multiple readings of the materials, we propose a model of three circles of experience, involving a number of domains and outcomes. The circles of experience are not discrete or static, but are porous, fluid, overlapping, and dynamic, indicated by the dotted rather than continuous lines. There are patterns and processes of relationship, causality, interrelatedness which occur across and between these lines, for our narrators and research subjects.

14 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

Wider Social Outcomes l ra ltu ing cu d er tan Int ders Un

Personal Context

Belonging Religious Identity

Linguistic/ Spiritual Identity

ce en sili Re

Community/ Institution

Teach/ Learn

Place/ Displacement

co Re

on

ati

li nci

Fig. 1.1  Model of process, domains and outcomes of linguistic and spiritual identity

In Fig. 1.1 at the centre of the diagram, many participants are engaged with an identity which involves knowledge of a heritage or community language(s), or a language they are reclaiming, learning and teaching. It may be privately or publicly a source of pride, love, devotion, struggle, or historical grief and racism. The formation of the linguistic identity for many involves the ‘capacity development’ of teaching and learning, and transmission within families. But this linguistic identity is integrated with a context of spirituality, or spiritual orientation in the world. As our definition of spirituality above suggests, this spirituality may be aligned with being on Country, with a church, temple, synagogue, mosque, religious liturgy, art, music or meditation practice. This is the ‘opportunity creation’, in the particular domains in which the language is natural, welcome and expected. The synchronicity of linguistic and spiritual identities is variously expressed and illustrated: “The language, the Dreaming and the land are

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

15

all one” (Michael Jarrett, Chap. 2) “my heart language” (Dich Dao, Chap. 3) “my language and spirit journey”(Harumi Hayakawa, Chap. 3),[Hakha Chin is] “so sweet to my ears and it gives me a complete inner satisfaction” (participant Dingdi, Chap. 12). In this intersection we see operating the Desire, the emotional rewards (spiritual growth and identity, satisfaction) of proficiency in knowing the language and being able to participate and experience the pleasure of one’s spiritual nature and nurture. Thus we suggest that our attention to the linguistic/spiritual dimension significantly adds to our understanding of language development. That is, that in a diverse multilingual society, there is an unacknowledged but very important role of religion and spirituality in supporting language learning. Moving outwards, in the next circle, this experience of linguistic/spiritual identity sits within a contextual environment which shapes the individual experience. This environment may involve a number of domains. The first of these domains is the existence of a Community. This is Community of others who either speak the same language, and/or share the same spiritual orientation. The individual may have permanent, transitory or limited affiliation with such a community, depending on age, and individual orientation. But in general it is their membership and attachment to such a community which may bring about a domain of Belonging, and common purpose (Jaroslav Duma, Chap. 3). A community may be also experienced as membership in a temporal dimension, as evidenced by Kayleen Kerwin (Chap. 2): “Language is my connection to country, I want to revive it, and keep it surviving for thousands of years, generation after generation”. We particularly want to highlight the role of the Teaching and learning domain in this context, as it is such a prominent domain of activity for so many voices. Teaching is very often the domain in which the narrators themselves develop and grow, and in which they model their linguistic/spiritual identity to others. For some, their linguistic/spiritual identity means a strong alignment with a domain of particular religious identity, as a critical focus for their life. This is a domain of important faith practice, worship and orientation. The religious identity may coincide with attendance at a physical

16 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

location and may represent a Religious Community (for example, Tamara Kotoyan, Chap. 3; Mansour and Gerges, Chap. 10). For many a linguistic/spiritual identity appears to be associated within a particular domain of Place and Displacement. Our diaspora writers tell stories shaped by journeys and resettlement, anxieties and discoveries in new locations. Indigenous writers have suffered displacement (Aunty Louise Campbell, Chap. 2) and had to achieve reconnection with Country. Alex Chistiakoff, Sookhee McRoberts (Chap. 3) describe their searches in a new land. Language learners tell of travel and extended work experience overseas (Melanie Brown, Chap. 4). One further outside circle of influence and impact represents wider community outcomes, both personal and social, of the linguistic/spiritual identity. In their narrative reporting, participants display the ability to take a critical intercultural view of their experience. The act of narrating opens up new critical understandings (Swati Doshi, Chap. 4). We earlier referred to the acquisition of self- knowledge as essential to intercultural understanding, respectful and productive interaction with others. Individuals who understand and assume their own internal diversity will serve as relays or conduits between several communities, and as a kind of ‘çement’ within their own communities (Kramsch, 2004). Many participants refer to the resilience which a linguistic/spiritual identity has given and continues to give them, against racism and obstacles (Aunty Louise Campbell and Glenn Loughrey, Chap. 2; Zohra Aly, Chap. 4; Gross and Rutland, Chap. 14). Resilience is represented in the individuals’ survival and adaptations, in the passion for maintaining their language in community service and in school building (Ravi Ananderajah, Chap. 4, Mala Mehta, Chap. 5), the family and the community. The importance of cultural identity has been identified as an important ingredient in resilience and well-being but to this we add a linguistic/spiritual identity as an additional factor. A strong linguistic/spiritual identity requires the self-knowledge which supports resilience. Many narrators comment that their commitment to their linguistic/ spiritual identity also brings them a strong sense of ethics and morality. Their daily rituals in language and faith give them discipline and guidance in their work ethics, and they display a dedication to extensive community service (Pandit Prakash Dhodari, Ravi Anandarajah, Chap. 4).

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

17

Reconciliation exists at personal, social and political levels. Joseph Lo Bianco (Chap. 17) has written of the global need for recognition of people’s languages and spirituality as factors in international conflict resolution and policy. Reconciliation Australia, the national body for Reconciliation between the wider Australian community and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, has said that a national Reconciliation is based on five critical dimensions: race relations, equality and equity, institutional integrity, unity and historical acceptance. Language reclamation (Zuckerman, Chap. 7), bilingual signage in country towns (Diane McNaboe, Chap. 2) and “breaking down racism” through language teaching (Michael Jarrett, Chap. 2), all are seen here as fundamental to social justice and Reconciliation. “Language is a part of us. Because without our languages we are lost. Language is the strength; language is the beauty of who we are as Yolngu,” says Djapirri Mununggirritj, Reconciliation Australia Board member (2017 https://mysunshinecoast.com.au/news/news-­display/naidoc-­ week-­2017-­our-­languages-­matter,50152). The intent of Reconciliation is well expressed in the name chosen for the Narragunnawali organization, promoting Reconciliation education in schools. Narragunnawali is a word from the language of the Ngunnawal people, meaning alive, wellbeing, coming together and peace. In future work in this area, we hope to expand and refine the model of Fig.  1.1, as research continues to provide more complex and nuanced illustration of the implications of linguistic/spiritual identity.

Overview of Contents Part I (Chaps. 2, 3, 4 and 5) introduces the reader to our narrators. We underline that our contributors write only of their own experience and language and speak their own truth and history. We have loosely grouped these narratives into four chapters. In Chap. 2, Living Spiritualities on Country, following a short introduction by Aunty Louise Campbell, we are privileged to hear the stories of eight individuals. Michael Jarrett is a Gumbaynggirr man and is passionate about education. Nathan Schreiber is a pioneer, teaching Gunggay at the Yarrabah State School, Queensland.

18 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

Diane Mc Naboe is a teacher of Wiradjuri language, in Dubbo, New South Wales. Craig Duncan teaches Gamilaraay language and will shape future curriculum in schools. As a member of the Stolen Generation, Aunty Louise Campbell explores how language breathes life into what we do. Corinna Norman is actively involved in the revitalisation of Dharug language. Kayleen Kerwin, a proud Paakantyi woman, is inspired by her late Aunty Elsie Jones, whose dream was for language to be taught up and down the Darling River. Finally, Glenn Loughrey shares the complex experience of being Indigenous but not having language. Chapters 3 and 4, introduced by Father Shenouda Mansour, open up the diversity of diaspora experience of language and faith, loosely grouped under their religious affiliations, as Living Faiths. Chapter 3 features two narratives from Harumi Hayakawa and Venerable Miaoyou about experience within Buddhist traditions, followed by nine narratives from participants connected with Christian churches. Diaspora stories are complex in emotion and frequently involve complex migration histories. We meet Alex Chistiakoff and the Russian Orthodox experience, Tamara Kotoyan and her Armenian identity, Matagi Vilitama and the language of Niue, Susitina Suli and the Tongan church, Sookhee McRoberts and a Korean church experience, Jaroslav Duma and his Ukranian Church community, Dich Dao and Vietnamese Catholic spirituality, Archbishop Mar Meelis Zaia and the Aramaic language of the Assyrian community, and John Hajek and his family’s complex place in the history of Austro-­ Hungarian empire and the former Yugoslavia. Chapter 4 continues with stories and personal histories related to Hinduism, Islam and Judaism. Swati Doshi teaches Hindi to support connectedness in the next generation. Milind Sathye documents his languages and Hindu religious practices in Marathi, Hindi and Sanskrit. Varsha Daithankar makes strong links between being multilingual and being open to multi-faith experience, and encourages her children to visit the temple, gurudwara or church with equal respect. Pandit Prakash Dhodari writes of his role at the Nepalese Hindu Society of Australia. Ravi Anandarajah and his family had to leave Sri Lanka, but they work hard to maintain their Tamil Saivist practices and their belief in the spiritual value of extensive community service.

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

19

Abdullah Ibrahim is a teacher of Indonesian. He reflects on the Afghan cameleers who trekked outback Australia, naming places using both Persian and Arabic words. Not many Australians know that Caboolture, a town north of Brisbane, in Persian means ‘small kabul’. Dr. Teuku Chalidin Yacob explains his belief and motivation for teaching language connected to an Islamic spiritual context. In addition, Zohra Aly, through the work of her husband and herself at the Imama Hasan Centre and language school, understands languages as a key to cultural harmony. Diane Alperstein writes of her love for both Hebrew and her lost language of Yiddish, in her Jewish faith where language and religious practice go hand in hand. Judit Rubenstein is an enthusiastic teacher of Hebrew and Jewish culture to young children. Rabbi Zalman Kastel shares his own background and his search to breach spiritual language barriers in all contexts. Although many narratives in the earlier chapters have been offered by teachers, Chap. 5 places a special focus on individuals whose deep commitment to teaching is evident. A short introduction invites readers to read these narratives in the light of Parker J. Palmer’s writing on teacher spirituality, where ‘teacher’ is understood in a broader concept. Palmer is a teacher educator whose writing offers new understandings of education as a spiritual journey and of the inner life of teachers. We see illustrated in these last narratives, Palmer’s analogy between teaching and hospitality, where hospitality benefits the host even more than the guest. Jianlian Liang reflects on children’s experience of praying in Chinese, a language which for the children becomes close to the heart, in her teaching in a Christian Bilingual school. Mala Mehta is a school builder, in her mission to teach Hindi, and to keep language and culture alive through beliefs and traditions. Melanie Brown’s wonderful story is a product of her engagement with not only learning and teaching Arabic but with her love of supporting young people. Mojgan Mokhatebi Ardakani and Zainab Rizvi collaborate to tell the personal story of establishing an English language Islamic Studies school. Trisha Watts offers us her experience at the Taizé community in France as the key to a career in teaching meditation through singing in different languages. John Harris tells the

20 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

story of the Nyoongar Bible translation and the deep impact this has had on teaching and learning for Nyoongar leaders. Part II of the volume (Chaps. 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, and 16), offers research studies from ten different Australian university contexts. Devrim Yilmaz, with Michael Jarrett, report a school project in teaching Aboriginal spirituality through drumming, poetry and Gumbaynggirr language. David Moore compiles the moving story of the multilingual church in Central Australia. Ghil’ad Zuckerman crusades for greater public understanding of the link between language reclamation and Indigenous well-being, through his work with Barngarla language of Eyre Peninsula, South Australia. Coming from the discipline of Human Geography, James Forrest offers us evidence from his analysis of census data, of the connections between multilingualism and religion in Australia. This provides a backdrop to understanding the intersections observed in the four studies which follow, of diaspora groups and individuals, their struggle to maintain languages and faith experiences. The driving passion of Father Shenouda Mansour and Ounas Gerges is to see the revitalisation of Coptic as a community language, for the Coptic communities of Australia and abroad. Ounas Gerges and his family are role models as they have successfully achieved communicative use of the ancient language within the family. Father Shenouda analyses strategies used successfully in other global revitalisation projects, and, together with insights from Ounas Gerges’ work, constructs a first framework for future Coptic revitalisation. Chapters 11, 12 and 13 offer research case studies of the intersection of language and spirituality issues within different communities. Lisa Gilanyi follows the language stories of two transnational sojourners, a Costa Rican woman and a devout Muslim from Indonesia. Salai Biak Za Lian Ching, Alistair Welsh, and Ramon Lopez Castellano examine the case of the Melbourne Christian diaspora of the Chin people, that is, people originating from the Chin State in Burma who are speakers of the Hakha dialect. Yining Wang and Ingrid Pillar focus on Christian bilingual practices and hybrid identities in a group of Chinese women living in Sydney.

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

21

Zehavit Gross and Suzanne Rutland investigate connections between Jewish spirituality and religious practice, knowledge of the Hebrew language and wellbeing. Drawing on longitudinal studies, they argue that developing positive attitudes and love for the Hebrew language among young Jewish students is an ongoing challenge today. Similarly, but with a school case study approach, Yona Gilead has investigated student attitudes to the school’s teaching and learning of Judaic studies, and learning Modern Hebrew. Chantal Crozet brings us back to an understanding of the personal and professional journey that she has taken. In her narrative style chapter, she describes her uses of Sanskrit in daily life, in relation to ayurvedic health, philosophy and yogic practices. She has faced academic challenges in including Indian spiritual sources in her writings as a scholar researching language and culture from an intercultural perspective. We come to our Final Word, a concluding chapter by Professor Joseph Lo Bianco. This chapter offers insights from Lo Bianco’s own international work in language rights and the need for inclusion of both language and religion in conflict resolution, diplomacy and peace education. The chapter integrates the broader perspective of these themes with a volume retrospective. We congratulate Professor Lo Bianco for his award in July 2021, of the 30th Ramon Llull International Prize, recognising his work.

Editor Narratives Robyn Moloney I grew up in a Sydney red brick suburb in an Angloceltic household. My birth name, Le Quesne, from the Channel Islands, was a source of severe pronunciation challenge in the monolingual times and may have pushed me towards language study interest. My upbringing was shaped by my mother’s early Presbyterian influence and was one of quiet belief and growth. Gary Bouma’s Preface has mentioned the phrase ‘a shy hope in the heart’ (from the work of Manning Clark) to capture the nature of much Australian religion and spirituality. I personally identify with Bouma’s observation, when he writes “not all

22 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

things that evoke awe and wonder are loud and noisy” (Amadasi & Holliday, 2018). I hear and experience the spiritual in the still small voice, and I find wonder in the beauty of the world’s languages and those who speak and sing them. I was a keen language learner, and French and German study accompanied me through university and became my early teaching career. I took up Japanese learning and later teaching in my thirties. I have also done beginner level study in Chinese and Hindi. With each language, I love to read the country’s novels in translation and watch their movies with subtitles, to pick up the life and the people that inhabit the language. In my early years of Japanese study, I offered homestay to Japanese students. I learnt how Australia, my home, and I myself, appeared to these students. Small aspects of our lifestyle caused distress or embarrassment: bubble-bath in the bath, a whole baked chicken carcass, putting underwear on our backyard line. Intercultural learning could be unexpectedly done at home! In many trips to Japan there were conversations, relationships, and reflection. I saw my behaviour and my Australianness made visible. I became aware of adaptations I made, in language, physical movement and expectations. My study included the typical lists of concrete vocabulary such as numbers, food, animals. Visiting a Catholic Church in Tokyo, I was confused when the priest referred in Japanese to what I translated as the “sheep of God”, thinking of my vocabulary list of animals. It was a surprisingly emotional moment when I connected this to the “Lamb of God”. God speaks Japanese! A door opened, to see that Japanese could be used as metaphor, to talk about spirituality, or indeed any issue. The same emotion has welled up hearing French liturgy in Paris, and a German service in Berlin. For me this is a space of grace, a gift, where I am grateful for the mystery of shared ground between language and a multilingual spirit. My experience helped me find ways in classrooms, to produce light-bulb moments for students to understand themselves and each other. I travelled to Western Australia for the first time, to meet an Indigenous family in 2008. In desert bareness, you start again on a new relationship journey. The people I met were mostly inclusive, generous, and gently made fun of me. The only way to learn was to wait, listen, and have a yarn (a chat). I was a beginner, and often a failure. My Sydney life and

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

23

privilege were made visible in a new uncomfortable way. I no longer had the assumption of being just ‘Australian’, I became a white, east coast, ‘rich’ Australian. I saw that I had middle class values, first language English literacy, assumed access to good education and housing, and expected to be treated well by justice and health systems. None of these things are ‘givens’ for Indigenous people in remote communities. As a language educator, I am grateful for the experience of meeting many leaders of Indigenous language revitalisation and teaching, and I stand in awe of their work. I am proud that the first language teacher in Australia was perhaps the young Dharug woman Patyegarang, who taught William Dawes her language, enabling him to record the life of a language, in not just vocabulary but complete conversations, in his workbooks.

Father Shenouda Mansour I came to Australia from Egypt at the age of six. Being Egyptian born, with a Greek mother, I came to Australia as a small child, speaking both some Arabic and Greek. I had not yet begun school in Egypt, however, and so I could neither read nor write in either Arabic or Greek. In Australia I became a struggling school learner of English as a Second Language. I was disappointed that I had missed out on formal learning of my family languages in Egypt, and there was neither time nor encouragement to learn them in our new land. I quite quickly lost my speaking knowledge of Arabic and Greek, as all my education was in English, at school and university. I did not think much about this background, until I commenced postgraduate studies, and thought critically about my own heritage and my missing languages. I worked for a major bank in Australia, before being ordained in 1991. As a priest in the Coptic church, my work led me to discover my ancient language Coptic and the roots of my ancestors. Most Coptic priests speak Arabic, but I am an exception. I was frequently asked, ‘how can you be a Coptic priest and not know how to read, write or pray in Arabic or Coptic?’ It was a difficult challenge being a Coptic Orthodox priest, as the language of my community was mainly Arabic. My encouragement

24 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

came from my senior priest. One day in the Sunday service in my early years, a congregation member stopped the service in which I was struggling to speak Arabic. He said, ‘Father Shenouda, stop praying in Arabic, and pray in English’. My senior gently told me to focus my service in English and forget about trying to pray in Arabic. From that point, I have served and ministered in my church only in English. I am called ‘the Australian priest’. But there was still a desire in me for the lost languages. My quest for the Coptic language came after studying a Masters of Coptic language at Macquarie University. The program introduced me to my heritage, my language and identity. My quest to foster and develop love for my ancient Coptic language heritage and identity led me to establishing a Coptic Studies department at a local Coptic school in Sydney. This allowed me to focus on language, religion and spirituality at the grass roots with school students for 17 years. My PhD research was an investigation of attitudes to identity, culture and language in a Coptic school community. It showed clearly the idea of multiple identities in the students, according to the different social communities to which they belonged. While studying, I was disappointed to find that there were few existing textbooks that reflected communities of diaspora in the Australian context, and I resolved to do something about it later! My appointment as the General Secretary of the New South Wales Ecumenical Council added another layer of love towards diverse communities of faith. I am directly involved with both different denominations of churches and the world of interfaith. I see the human paradigm of language as central to communities and their faith and the importance of spirituality to the human being. This book has special significance to me. Language preserves religion and belief systems. These belief systems are manifested in the day to day spirituality of people’s engagement with their faith. Without language, religion and spirituality, we will not be able to deeply connect with our neighbour, nor embrace social cohesion. I know that our colonial history was violent and abusive, and we are still far from achieving true cohesion. And yet, I am grateful that Australian society is working to embrace respect for all communities by engaging the elements of language, religion and spirituality. This is the core of my

1  Introduction: Language, Identity and Spirituality 

25

motivation as co-editor of this book – to celebrate and promote Australia’s diverse gifts of language, religion and spiritualty. Language is my connection to Country… that’s my gift to the Paakantyi nation, up and down the river. I want to revive it, and to keep it surviving for thousands of years, generation after generation. (Kayleen Kerwin, Chap. 2)

References Amadasi, S., & Holliday, A. (2018). ‘I Already Have a Culture.’ Negotiating Competing Grand and Personal Narratives in Interview Conversations with New Study Abroad Arrivals. Language and Intercultural Communication, 18(2), 241–256. Armstrong, K. (2010). Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life. Penguin Random House. Bakhtin, M. M. (1981). The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays (M. Holquist & C. Emerson, Eds.). University of Texas Press. Bakhtin, M. M. (1986). In M. Holquist & C. Emerson (Eds.), Speech Genres and Other Late Essays. University of Texas Press. Bouma, G. (2006a). Australian Soul: Religion and Spirituality in the 21st Century. Cambridge University Press. Bouma, G. (2006b). Australian Soul: Religion and Spirituality in the 21st Century (Chap. 3). Cambridge University Press. Chik, A., Benson, P., & Moloney, R. (Eds.). (2018). Multilingual Sydney. Routledge. Chik, A., Forrest, J., & Siciliano, F. (2019). Language Diversity in Sydney: At Home and in Public. In A. Chik, P. Benson, & R. Moloney (Eds.), Multilingual Sydney (pp. 26–39). Routledge, Taylor and Francis Group. Connelly, M. (2017). Preface. In L. Harbon & R. Moloney (Eds.), Language Teacher Stories from Their Professional Knowledge Landscapes. Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Dervin, F. (2016). Interculturality in Education: A Theoretical and Methodological Toolbox. Springer. Dörnyei, Z., & Ushioda, E. (Eds.). (2009). Motivation, Language Identity and the L2 Self (Vol. 36). Multilingual Matters.

26 

R. Moloney and F. S. Mansour

Goodson, I. F., Loveless, A. M., & Stephens, D. (Eds.). (2013). Explorations in Narrative Research (Vol. 6). Springer Science & Business Media. Hage, G. (2012). White Nation: Fantasies of White Supremacy in a Multicultural Society. Routledge. Heidegger, M. (1978). The Way to Language. In D. F. Krell (Ed.), Basic Writings (pp. 393–426). Routledge. Jakubowicz, A. (1988). The Celebration of (Moderate) Diversity in a Racist Society: Multiculturalism and Education in Australia. The Australian Journal of Education Studies, 8(2), 37–75. Kramsch, C. (2004). The Multilingual Experience: Insights from Language Memoirs. Transit, 1(1). Lo Bianco, J. L., & Peyton, J. K. (2013). Vitality of Heritage Languages in the United States: The Role of Capacity, Opportunity, and Desire. Heritage Language Journal, 10(3), i–viii. Omoniyi, T., & Fishman, J. A. (Eds.). (2006). Explorations in the Sociology of Language and Religion (Vol. 20). John Benjamins Publishing. Pannikar, R. (1979). Faith as a Constitutive Human Dimension. In Myth, Faith and Hermeneutics (p. 242). Paulist Press. Pavlenko, A. (2001). Language Learning Memoirs as a Gendered Genre. Applied Linguistics, 22(2), 213–240. Stratton, J. (1999). Multiculturalism and the Whitening Machine, or How Australians Become White. In The Future of Australian Multiculturalism (pp. 163–188). Curtin University. Tillich, P. (1963). Christianity and the Encounter of the World Religions. Columbia University Press. Wittgenstein, L. (2010). Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (B. Russell, Ed., C. K. Ogden, Trans.). Project Guttenberg Licence, EBook #5740. Wolf, A. (2012). Intercultural Identity and Inter-Religious Dialogue: A Holy Place to Be? Language and Intercultural Communication, 12(1), 37–55. Page 39.

2 Living Spiritualities on Country Robyn Moloney

Introduction Aunty Louise Campbell Catholic Education Office, Maitland-Newcastle, Newcastle West, NSW, Australia Many of our Elders have said and still say today that the only way a language survives is if our children learn their languages as a first language, and then pass this onto their children in a way that it was passed onto them. Most would agree that some of our languages might be on the edge of falling into the abyss, so to speak. But the following stories give us hope, where Aboriginal people are taking up a new energy and enthusiasm to ensure a massive resurgence. This transpires from those who see language as a vehicle to build knowledge, strength and development for

R. Moloney (*) School of Education, Macquarie University, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_2

27

28 

R. Moloney

our Aboriginal young people and indeed for everyone’s strength through culture, identity and stories of their people. Our contributors here tell us that we must not forget that our languages are important, and that we must take the utmost care to respect those who spoke it fluently in the same way that we care as we write and speak English. Our languages were there to help us understand the whole gambit of our diverse cultures, their practices and relationships to the people, nature and to the spirit worlds. These relationships made our peoples live for a very long time through generations and generations. They lived through the coming of a strange culture with different ways which quickly diminished these rich and dynamic ways of life that supported important values that were constantly reinforced for the continuity of our Aboriginal peoples. Despite the dire situations performed by the new culture, the people saw the importance of what learning and speaking Aboriginal language can do in their everyday lives and work. The contributors express this so eloquently in their following stories, which are reminders that there are reasons for hope for our languages to survive. Even if our languages are seldom used to express our thoughts and attitudes itself, they come through in poetry, dance, art, song, education and within religious frameworks. The sheer diversity of the approaches and ideas expressed by our Aboriginal contributors demonstrate unequivocally that Aboriginal language issues are probably the most important conversations that face Aboriginal people in New South Wales. The following stories detail wonderful ways that we can use to stop language loss and indeed to grow culture and identity. It may be Michael teaching the ‘heads, shoulders, knees’ song in Gumbaynggirr to Kindergarten children, or the Principal at Yarrabah who saw the potential of engaging Nathan to teach Gunggay to his students, or Dianne reaching out to her past and Elders for learnings about Wiradjuri and Gamillaraay, or Craig who insists that his emails begin with Yaama (Gamillaraay for ‘hello’), or Louise where language found her way home, or Corina who is reclaiming her Dharug language, or Kayleen who is ensuring that her Aunty’s dream of language is fulfilled and for Glen who saw language as a way to understand his identity and culture as well as to

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

29

further understand the journey his family made to survive as an Aboriginal person. All these stories make us stop to reflect that language loss is a tragedy which could contribute to the demise of Aboriginal culture and peoples in New South Wales. We were expected not to survive the onslaught of colonisation and deliberate government policies that wanted to see the Aboriginal race die. This is now being said about our language losses. But the following stories from Aboriginal people in their places tell of wonderful creative efforts, strategies, frameworks, and ways that we can contribute to strengthening our approaches to reclaiming and revitalising our Aboriginal languages, that continue to exist and grow on our own terms.

Opening a Door to Another World Michael Jarrett Centre for Ecological Learning, Gumbaynggirr Country, Bellingen, NSW, Australia Giinagay! (hello) I am a Gumbaynggirr man from Nambucca Heads (Nyambaga). I was born in a small town called Macksville on the Mid North Coast of New South Wales. My family lived on Bellwood Reserve, where I spent all my childhood attending school and growing up there with a lot of my relatives. There were Elders who spoke Gumbaynggirr language but they did not speak it much to the children. But they did want to keep the language and stories alive, so they taught it to Brother Steve Morelli. Brother Steve Morelli learnt the language and culture and he compiled a dictionary of Gumbaynggirr. He has been teaching the language since 1980. My language was missing from my life until I decided to attend Gumbaynggirr language classes at Muurrbay Language Centre in 1997. It was pretty hard going, because there were not many speakers around. The way it was taught was difficult for me too. I am working out the balance between theory, grammar and practice. A person can know all the

30 

R. Moloney

grammar of how the language works. But it wasn’t until I put the grammar into practice, and started talking, that I started really learning the language. We need to build up from simple practice with practical conversations. And then, the theory and grammar make sense, when they develop from the speaking. I often say to Brother Steve that we need to build a foundation of speaking first, and then we can bring in all the grammar. I find that teaching helps me retain a lot, and I learn a lot myself. When I’m teaching a kindy class, I might use the song, ‘Heads and Shoulders, Knees and Toes’ in Gumbaynggirr. The next lesson, I’m not going to teach them that same thing again. It has to move on, you need to put in new parts of the body, eyebrows, eyelashes…. But then I run out of body parts! But you have to use language to do things, in some way, like singing. It’s only usage that makes it real. Stories are very important for learning and identity. We are making some beautiful video story resources of our Dreaming stories. My two sons are very proud of the latest one we did, the story of Emu and Platypus. I did one of the videos all in Gumbaynggirr language, with no English spoken. One day in the future all the Gumbaynggirr people will say “oh I know what he said!” without the subtitles. Our stories have been produced in text and audio-visual as resources for different levels of learners. But the Dreaming and the stories are not just in the past. They are very present to us. They are in the landscape. We have a story about how different languages came to be on this Country. The creator came out of the East, from the ocean, and gave us this beautiful land. He said, ‘you must never try to chase or catch me’. But one day a young hunter saw this golden man coming, shining like the sun. The hunter told his mob he had seen this golden man, and they all came out and chased him for miles. The golden man became angry, and as he went along, he divided up the landscape. He made the rivers to carve out boundaries and he made the tribes in those different areas to speak different languages. That’s how we have Gumbayngirr, Bundjalung, Yaygirr, Dhanggati and other languages on this Country. The language, the Dreaming and the land are all one. Knowing the language makes you a part of all that. Language tells us that all things in existence are in relationship with each other. The life force that’s in me and in all people is in the creatures, in the essence in every living thing. There’s no separation between us and life itself.

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

31

For me, learning the language opens a door to how Gumbaynggirr people lived on the land, and how they thought about the whole picture of creation and life itself. When you start learning the language, the stories just jump out at you. For me this journey will never end till the day I die. This language journey is like opening a door to another world. It is exciting to learn it this way, in tune with this experience. All things share the same breath, every part of the earth is sacred. We belong to the earth – the earth does not belong to us. That idea is embedded in the language and culture. That’s why I have to teach everybody, so they can understand! In Gumbaynggirr, we don’t have a word for “mine”. We say it “belong me”. Belonging is important. When I come onto Country, I call out “hello Country, I am a friend, I belong, and I have come back to see you”. For every child who learns Gumbaynggirr, I would like to see them growing a sense of belonging. Yesterday I had 15 Aboriginal children sitting on the mat, talking about identity. The children today often grow up in scattered communities, they are not always connected as a mob outside school. We talked about identity and about how, for example, Japanese people and German people speak their own language, and how that tells us who they are. I stress to the Indigenous children, ‘You have an identity as well. You are Indigenous. You can speak your language, like me’. Even if they don’t know language, they often know the stories of the spirit world. They especially know that spirits will come and get you if you don’t behave yourself! It’s important to get out on Country. Revitalisation of language is also about culture, and being out on Country, rebuilding connections with Country. I often take visiting school groups out on Country. I show them the different coloured ochres, do face painting, share knowledge about bush food and medicine, tell them our Creation stories, teach them how to throw boomerangs, woomeras, so as to give them a glimpse of Gumbaynggirr culture. I always talk to them about the importance of spiritual connection to Country and looking after Country. We have a lot of spirit words in Gumbaynggirr. There is a word for the spirit of a dead person who was killed by another man, and there are words for the little spirit creatures who live amongst us. Then there are the Min-min lights, spirits of Elders. The stories are where you see the essence of Gumbaynggirr culture and way of living. I use the words sacred

32 

R. Moloney

(jaagi), spirit (muya), creation (yuludarla), ancestral beings (mangu-­ man). In the shape of animals and people they went through the landscape shaping the land, becoming animals and birds, and going up to the stars. Gumbaynggirr language has made an impact on non-indigenous people too, in the towns around Nyambaga. There are bilingual signs, and story places are signposted. The highway and some streets have been renamed. I believe there is less racism and some better understanding happening. I believe that racism will be broken down, and that we will get rid of it! I believe that language changes people. In the old days, there was a strong relationship with the Catholic church, through the role of the Mission. There is gratitude for the teaching of the language. People still knew about their Gumbaynggirr spirits, but they melded it together with Catholicism. The old people used to talk about Gumbaynggirr Dreaming using Christian language, to try to connect and explain it, so people could understand it better. Now we are moving towards different ways. Some people still have funerals in a Church with readings from the Bible. But others will have a funeral on an island, and we will do ceremony in the Gumbaynggirr way, sing songs and talk about the person. We are trying to slowly move to having it only in Gumbaynggirr, talking about the Tree of Life, the ancestors, the spirit of this dead person. There is a journey going on here in finding our way. Michael Jarrett’s work and Gumbaynggirr culture resources can be seen at https://ictv.com.au/video/item/3659 https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=2111965145776103 https://muurrbay.org.au/

Building from the Inside Out Nathan Schreiber Department of Education, Yarrabah State School, Cairns, QLD, Australia

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

33

Ngadjagurran Gurriny (greeting) My story really starts with my grandmother. It was her dream to continue our language, our culture and laws, through teaching the next generation. My language is Gunggay, and I am part of the Yarrabah community. This is my eighth year working on my Country, revitalising Gunggay. I teach at the Yarrabah State School, about an hour’s drive north from Cairns, Queensland. Yarrabah Country lies between the mountain range known as the Tropical Tablelands and the coast. I feel very honoured and blessed to be doing this teaching and revitalization work. I know that it carries a lot of weight, and that it needs to happen, whether in a school or not, for the continuation of our beliefs. This is my journey now, to pass it on to the kids and support the community here through language. Gunggay is one of the languages of the Yidiny language group. It is an endangered language, with only a few speakers. The school principal here knew of my passion for language, as he had seen me working in my previous school where I ran traditional dance groups. At the time, the Queensland government made language learning compulsory in all schools, so the principal offered me the chance to develop a program to teach Gunggay across the school. I jumped at that opportunity, but I soon discovered I had really jumped in the deep end. I had to create everything, all the programs and resources from the ground up. Plus I also had to do the groundwork of putting the actual language together, in order to teach it. I went to the Elders to get their permission for that to happen. They were supportive and we still continue to meet regularly. Now we have Kindergarten to Year 10 learning Gunggay. As in many other places, we had a mission history. An English-only Anglican mission was run along autocratic military lines by the father and son team, John and Ernest Gribble. In the boarding residences the children were forcibly separated from parents, treated poorly, and Gunggay language was prohibited. This created a terrible disconnect between the people and their Country. There has been significant disruption in our history, with quite a few generations denied the chance to learn. We also have had an influx of groups from other parts of Queensland relocated here, so we have language influences from many different places.

34 

R. Moloney

Although I had grown up hearing Elders speak my language, I hadn’t thought about it much, until I was at university in 2007. I heard many different cultures at university speaking their languages, and I thought, ‘why can’t I speak mine?’ One lecture on Indigenous languages made me start to look for the reasons behind the near-disappearance of my language. To learn my language, I started collecting what I knew. In the university library, I found two 50-year-old field recordings of Gunggay songs. It was like I had struck gold! I used some field notes left by the Anglican missionary Gribble, the first ever written record of our language, as a starting point. I was lucky to have been raised close to my grandmother. I remembered that she would always have visitors, and I remembered listening to their talk. I was one of the lucky ones to have heard language. My language learning is like a big jigsaw puzzle, finding the pieces and how they fit together. A real turning point for me was using material from the book Words of our Country by Robert Dixon (Loughrey, 2020). Dixon recorded the stories, grammar and dictionary of all the Yidiny group languages. In his dictionary Dixon has broken down all the dialects, one of which is Gunggay. I was able to follow the way he wrote the language down and absorb it. A difficult thing for me however was finding people to talk to. Some family members did not want to re-engage with the language again as it had been a site of trauma and pain. There is now really only one Elder surviving who is fluent, with whom I can practice speaking. I am trying to spend as much time as I can with that Elder. I don’t think I will ever get to the end of this journey, but I am enjoying it. I now have 450 children learning and singing in Gunggay. To get support, I like to go to conferences and talk about what I’m doing and hear what other people are doing. After working here for four pretty tough years, I sought out the support of a younger cousin, to come and help me. When he walked into my lesson for the first time, he was in tears, he couldn’t believe that the kids were learning Gunggay. I am steering him down the teaching path and I want to get a bigger ripple effect going in the community. I say that we can all be in the role of teachers, we all need to teach. Our school is 90% Indigenous children. I believe that learning language is building them ‘from the inside out’. To some extent I think the rest of the curriculum is building them ‘from the outside in’. But

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

35

language is giving them identity and inner strength. I think the better they learn language, the better they can learn other things too. Research says this too. Our non-Indigenous staff are also gradually learning some Gunggay. All the staff use the greetings every day. We do Welcome to Country and the school song in Gunggay. We are introducing signage around the school, and later I hope around the town. I think for the non-Indigenous staff and the school leadership, it is giving them insight, building bridges with the children and community. It provides a window into how we operate as a people, and how to engage. The more you know about someone, the deeper you can dig, the more connected you can become with them. I get good feedback from the community, with many people coming on board. The children sing the songs out of school, and sometimes older people tell me the words in the songs trigger memories of language used long ago. My study for the Masters of Indigenous Language Education (MILE) at University of Sydney really helped me to get my ideas, and my language, sorted out. I did a project where I compared effects of learning on Country, outside the classroom, to learning inside the classroom. For a term, I took one class to a bushy area and taught them language about bush tucker. And the comparison class did all the same lesson content about tucker, but inside the classroom. I tested them both at the end of the term. The students who had learnt outside had a higher rate of retention of vocabulary and language structure than the group who learnt inside. Language runs deeper than just words. There is so much that is expressed in language, so much culture and history embedded in the words. For example, over on Green Island, there is a very significant place called “wunyami”, and it is for men’s ceremonies. When we teach the kids to say that word, that one word speaks of so much history and story and ceremony. My job is to give all that background information. I like to get kids to think about where this language comes from. I tell them that I didn’t get it out of a book, It’s been here since the beginning, and it is part of who we are. The Yarrabah that you live in now, that’s the limit of what you know. But think about the Yarrabah long before. They need to understand that this language, and the knowledge in it, was spoken by their grandparents, and their great grandparents, but also, way before that, by their ancestors, right from our creation stories onwards.

36 

R. Moloney

Strong Kids Who Can Speak Up for Themselves Aunty Diane McNaboe Dubbo College Delroy Campus, Dubbo, NSW, Australia My family history is full of stories. My father was Wiradjuri (Dubbo area) and my mother was Gamilaraay Nation (Moree area) New South Wales. When I was a kid, we weren’t allowed to move around just anywhere, you had to have the right paperwork. Every holiday, when we went to Moree to visit my grandmother, we had to report to the mission manager’s office to get checked before we could go onto the mission. You could be stopped at any time. Because my father married a woman from Moree, he had to have the Certificate of Exemption, or the “dog tag” card on him as well as for us kids to go to school. Until 1976, all our movements were tracked and recorded. Until 1972 school principals had the right to refuse Aboriginal children access to education. My Grandmother was happily attending school in Brocklehurst. But suddenly she was stopped from going to school and we didn’t know why. A non-Aboriginal family had moved to the town, and the father, not wanting to send his child to a school that had Aboriginal children, had written a letter to the Department of Education. So the principal just simply expelled my grandmother. My father told us we were not allowed to practice our shared language and culture or we’d be taken away. He told us that when he got his photo taken for the card, if he smiled in the photo, he would be regarded by the authorities as bold and cheeky, and then he wouldn’t get a card. Uncle Tommy was a very clever kid and his aunties and gran made him go to school, as they thought he’d do well. He could actually speak three languages as he had picked them up from home. At school, he knew he had to speak English. But when he was happy and excited, he would unconsciously drop into speaking a home language. The teachers thought he was swearing, so he got into trouble, and was sent to court. He was punished just for speaking language and being clever. So then the family stopped all the kids from going to school and speaking language. Later my own father went to Wellington High School for a while. He was made to walk ten kilometres each day from the school to the principal’s house, to pick up the principal’s lunch and bring it to school. But one day he got

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

37

sick of it, and just sat down on the road and ate the principal’s lunch. He dropped out of school pretty quickly. I made it my mission, as a child, to go hunting for language. I thought, “no one’s going to stop me”. So I collected names for things, phrases, I collected words from Elders and family, and the occasional words that my grandmother would let slip. One of my aunties, a fluent speaker, had intended to write down her language, but she sadly died early from tuberculosis, so it was lost. In the 1980s I started working with a dance group, and one of the group members found an old book of words recorded by James Gunther (1838), and they gave that language information to me. Stan Grant Senior, John Rudder and others, were trying to get the language back into the communities. They were getting language material from archives but passing it back to the people. They supported each other. John Rudder had a good understanding of Aboriginal people and our ways, and that made a massive difference. He understood that he was doing it to help us, and that he wasn’t the keeper of the knowledge, he didn’t own the work. He’s highly respected across Wiradjuri Country. So I have worked on putting the words into songs, using the words I was taught when I was young. I would use those words to then work out pronunciation of more new words. I’ve been lucky in having cultural knowledge given to me, not just from Elders and family, but from lots of people who I’ve run into. I had to approach the Elders to get permission for my songs, and also approval to do Welcome to Country in language. That was a big deal for us, to get the confidence to do it. I am teaching at Dubbo College, Delroy Campus, and I teach the LOTE (Languages Other than English) program there. I was the first one to teach language at the TAFE (Technical and Further Education) here in Dubbo around 20 years ago. I’ve been teaching language and culture altogether for over 30 years on Country. I didn’t know if I could do it at first, but I was pushed, people said I would make an excellent teacher. I started out, and then I was teaching all over Wiradjuri Country. I have trained a lot of people to teach, and now there are 24 school programs up and running, run by different community groups. The Wiradjuri Council of Elders said we should teach both Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. I reckon it’s the best form of Reconciliation, sharing and learning about one another’s languages. Learning that not

38 

R. Moloney

everybody’s language and culture are the same opens the students’ eyes, and makes them a little bit more resilient, and helps them become a better human being. I keep working on my resources all the time, always improving, adding new things that I have learnt. I can have a good conversation in Wiradjuri. I am pretty fluent. I get a lot of requests to translate things. I have done hundreds of translations. I have done a lot of bilingual signage for Dubbo. A lot of government offices have language on them, and I made a list of signs that schools can use. All the students can do Acknowledgement of Country in language. I think bilingual signage around the town shifts public thinking and makes a difference. When I stand up and talk to people, I like to say, ‘Did you know, you have been speaking Wiradjuri for years, you know lots of words already’. Every town you go to, there are at least around twenty signs in Aboriginal language. Lots of places here have Aboriginal names. Some examples of town names would include “Dubbo”, this is the ceremonial cap that a widow wears, when they rub red clay into their hair. No one can come and torment the woman while she is wearing that mourning cap. Gilgandra means “long water place”; Geurie means ‘true, straight, accurate’ and Myall is “wattle tree”, but also, “a shy but deep person”. Meanings can often be ambiguous. It depends how you’re using the word: it can change according to what’s happening. What is in front of you, now, is what’s expressed. There is no “definite future tense, or will”, in our language, it’s always a bit “maybe”. It is because something might come up and oblige you to do something else. I could say “I will go fishing with uncle tomorrow”, but if someone turns up, in fact I might have to go to a ceremony or funeral. These circumstances surround us, are part of life. It’s all to do with relationships, connections to Country, and identity. It’s not about money and quantity and wanting things. It’s a different way of thinking, a different set of connections. For example, we have a base 5 counting system, and after number five, we say “lots”. Once you start thinking in terms of the European counting system, you are taking away that identity and way of thinking. Language expresses that deeper knowledge of identity that does not change. A Wiradjuri person can go places, do lots of different things, learn new things, but they are still Wiradjuri. In class I encourage kids to

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

39

talk about their origins. Everyone needs that sense of belonging. We don’t need a lot of lost children in Australia, we need strong kids who, once they know their identity, can speak up for themselves. I feel the spirits guide me. I work a lot together with my sister Lynette and we only work well when we are together. The old spirit fellas block us from doing any work until she comes home onto Country. We were making this massive possum skin cloak, for an exhibition down in Sydney. As soon as she came home, all the stories came out, and we could finish it. I feel very strong connections, and sometimes get messages from the birds. The birds are messengers, especially to women. They tell us if something is going to happen, when someone is going to pass away, or when someone is going to give birth. We have the word for spirit god, Baayami. There are strong spirit connections always between cultures. If the English people had stopped and thought, and if they had been able to have proper conversations with us, they would have realised in fact we had similar understandings. Ngadhu ngunha yindyamarra-dhi Mudyigaan maradhal-bu nginha-bu bala garay-galang-gu widyunggun nganyguliya-dhi yanhanha. I give my respect to Elders past and present also to the lands from which they come. Diane’s work can be seen at https://gather.sl.nsw.gov.au/creator/aunty-­d iane-­m cnaboe-­ wiradjuri-­dubbo

Revitalising Both My Language and Myself Craig Duncan Catholic Education Office, Maitland-Newcastle, Newcastle West, NSW, Australia I am a proud Gamilaraay man and I work at the Catholic Education office, in the Diocese of Maitland-Newcastle with Aunty Louise Campbell. Our personal journeys are different, but we share a passion for language and for Aboriginal education. The Diocese is using our expertise

40 

R. Moloney

to update the Aboriginal Education policy and content. It’s the first time Aboriginal people have led this. Our office features kangaroo skins, and we have plans to rename our office with key words from our languages to show ownership of the space. I am from Moree in the northwest of New South Wales. Gamilaraay (Kamilaroi) is a big Nation stretching from Tamworth, out to Murrurundi, Walgett, Inverell, and up into Queensland. My language group defines me and my Nation. But even within my own language group, we have differences in words across different towns. For example, when Moree people talk about miri, they mean a star. But in the Gunnedah area, miri means a dog. But maybe it’s to do with the dog star constellation? I am constantly learning about language in our everyday environment. Some non-indigenous people in the towns unconsciously use some Gamilaraay words, like the word buruma for dog, in an English sentence. I guess it’s because they’ve grown up around Aboriginal people and a little bit of Gamilaraay has become part of the vernacular of the town. My family has always had the words. Past policies suppressed language use, but the family just held onto the knowledge, without using it. We were lucky to have people to document the language and our history. We’ve had our old people audio recorded, and had materials put into museums. This has included archives and journals, from early explorers, surveyors and settlers who recorded some words. But the most important documentation took place with our Elders in the 1970s, when recordings were made. Having these recordings allows us to continue the journey of revitalisation, from when the last fluent speakers were around. With these, I can participate and pass on the language. So now it’s about revitalisation of both the language and myself. My language proficiency is still growing. I am expanding my vocabulary all the time and I can now string sentences together. I want to be able to do an Acknowledgement of Country, for example, without looking at the piece of paper. But I have found that if you don’t use it you lose it. When I was actively teaching in school, I could rattle it off, and speak better. But now that I am not in direct teaching, I am forgetting a few things, and have gone backwards a bit. It might be a small thing, but I have started using Yaama (Hello) and Yaluu (goodbye) in emails with work colleagues. It’s interesting to see that

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

41

the colleagues have started replying using them too. I feel I am sharing a learning circle with colleagues. It’s a start, in the everyday inclusion of Indigenous languages, in building public awareness. Working as an educator it is great to see that the value of Indigenous languages is now being recognised. It’s now an opportunity for all Aboriginal people who are interested in language, to revitalise and to speak it. I would love to see it become an everyday norm to use language with greetings. Maybe we won’t ever be at the level of Te Reo Maori language in New Zealand, or First Nations’ languages in Canada. But we will get to a stage where Indigenous language is welcomed and acknowledged as an everyday norm, without repression. We will see more courses available in the universities, like the Masters of Indigenous Language Education (University of Sydney) and the valuing of Elders from whom we can draw language and experience. All these things will make it easier for those following on. Gamilaraay Language for me is an art in itself. What you can describe in Language feels quite different and it rolls off the tongue, unlike English. It is quite heart-warming to know that we can still create that in today’s society. There are things that can only be expressed in that Language. I also love art, and of course you can paint Country, but I feel you can still express more, when it’s in Language. I am planning to study again next year at Ph D level. It’s a privilege to work with Aunty Louise Campbell. Her stories, although sometimes sad, inspire me to continue. Having people around me who are involved and interested in language is really important to me.

L anguage Is About What Connects Us, Not What Sets Us Apart Aunty Louise Campbell Catholic Education office, Maitland-Newcastle, Newcastle West, NSW, Australia I’m from Gumbayngirr Country, from my mother’s side, around Coffs Harbour and Nambucca Valley area, New South Wales. My great

42 

R. Moloney

grandmother was from Bundjalung Country in the north. My father is Dungaree, my grandfather is Yuin, on the far south coast of New South Wales. I am part of the so-called Stolen generation. My grandmother and mother spoke a number of languages very fluently, the languages of the Northern Tablelands and East coast. My generation heard, listened, understood and spoke language when we were little. But when we were taken and removed, we lost it. The boys were sent to the Kinchela Boys Home, a terrible place, and the girls were sent to a Convent at Edgecliff, and to the Bomaderry Aboriginal Children’s Home. We didn’t hear any more language until long after we came out of those institutions. Later I was a foster child in various homes of new immigrant families. To survive and communicate, I had to learn Hungarian and then later Gaelic. Those were the languages that the new immigrant families spoke in their homes. As settlers, they had to learn English as a second language, and I had to teach them English. But in order to communicate with the foster families I had to speak their language. Although I was forced into it by circumstance, I quite enjoyed learning those languages. But it was a tragic time in my life, and at many times those homes were not a good place to be, as a foster child. At age 16 I couldn’t deal with it anymore, and I ran away, and managed to finish my schooling as a boarder. I got training at Newcastle College of Advanced Education (now Newcastle University) and got my first degree in 1975. I became a Physical Education teacher in secondary schools. As a young teacher I was trying to bring Aboriginal content into my classroom, but I found that I had to have language to fully bring the stories alive to students. In the expression of culture, to teach it in the classroom, you need to have the right language to know what it looked like, felt like, tasted like, sounded like. I was 23 when I finally went home. Luckily my grandmother was still alive, and I could embark on re-learning my language. Today I am not a fluent speaker of Gumbaynggirr, but I can speak a bit. I am linked to the Muurrbay cultural centre in Nambucca Heads. We are grateful to Brother (Dr) John Giacon and Brother Steve Morelli, for their work in retaining the language and making recordings. My grandmother was part of those recordings, and they are so important to us. They give us strength,

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

43

knowing that we have the resources and we can learn it. I am hoping to build on my language. After a few years teaching, I went back to university and got a law degree at the University of New South Wales. I used my study to know more about Aboriginal culture and land. I worked for the NSW Aboriginal Land Council in the 1980s. When Aboriginal Land Rights legislation was developed, it was my job to help organise the land claims. And, as part of that process, I learnt about who I was, and where I came from. When the Mabo case was successful, my job was to go out and explain what the claims regime meant to the people of NSW. One of the big things for a group to establish, under Mabo, was how you have maintained your language and how your language linked into the other cultural practices of your group. That is how I learnt about the power of language. Language was a key factor in establishing a land rights claim. And that is because language gives you your stories, your Dreaming, it speaks to you about your rights and responsibilities, and whether you were able to express those in dance and art. That is where the learning of language becomes so important. That period was a big stimulus in understanding the value of language, and it is still a key factor today in education. For us, as educators, living in a non-Aboriginal world, we ask how the language can support our children to develop all the skills they need, within a non-Aboriginal literacy program? We have this ancient language with which we build our strength and culture. Language can give you creative and analytical skills to be a confident learner. Language is the connecting thread to many things in education and development. It is going to be an important factor in our kids’ educational outcomes and a big part of building strong and confident learners. Language links to my passion for Aboriginal spirituality. I want to do a PhD about Aboriginal spirituality, and language will be an important part of that. I want to research the role of language, and how the cultural aspects of a group of people contribute to their spirituality. I am a Catholic, and I want to explore how language contributes to our spirit, how it breathes life into what we do as a people. I like that the word “spirit” comes from the Latin word for “breath”. Language is about what connects us, not what sets us apart.

44 

R. Moloney

‘Walk with Good Spirit’ Corina Norman Dharug Community, Sydney, NSW, Australia Giara Corina danayi: My name is Corina Norman. I am a Dharug and Dharawal woman with multiple clan connections that stem from the Blue Mountains, across the Cumberland plains and through to the east coast saltwater clan countries of Sydney. My grandmother was born in 1931 on the land of the Gadigal – clan of Dharug ngurra – Country and lived across her traditional ngurra until 1958. My Grandfather was born at Port Kembla with bloodlines that stem back to Camaraygal, Kamaygal and Gwaegal of Dharug and Dharawal Country. My Grandparents packed up their children and boarded a ship to New Zealand when my Dad was around eight years old. My Nan’s sister and family had recently moved to New Zealand and they followed due to the effects and trauma of colonisation. Dharug Country is “from the mountains to the sea and everything in between”: From both sides of the Blue Mountains, through to the Hawkesbury and Cumberland Plain areas in Western Sydney, over to Appin in the North and to the Sydney basin and along the east coast, our saltwater (sea). There are over 29 clans. Clan names you may be familiar with are Gadigal, Cameraygal, Cabogal, Wangal, Buruberongal, Barramatta to name a few. With all the different spellings recorded this makes decisions about language complex. We also have Aboriginal people describe Gadigal as something separate from Dharug but Gadigal is a clan of the Dharug Nation. You will often hear people who are not Dharug state that all our clans are dialects of the Sydney or Eora language. This is certainly not how the Dharug, who are the Cultural Authority of Country, see their language. My Mum is Maori, so when I was young I learnt Te Reo Maori as a second language. I discovered that language was empowering when I could produce language and understand meaning. I think that experience of successfully learning Te Reo Maori helped me later, in understanding

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

45

how to learn Dharug, and being confident that the learning process works. It’s good for everyone to learn a language. Here, on Dharug Country, language is what people hold on to. Coming from colonization trauma, denied opportunity to learn, dispossessed, now we hold onto every little thing. I am actively involved in the revitalisation of Dharug, collaborating with other like-minded Dharug yura (people). Reclamation and revitalisation go hand in hand, and we are all still learning. I believe that the oral history of our language hasn’t been fully documented by Dharug yura. There are historical records and collections from the first 100 years of settlement. Today, there are only a few people who heard their family speak it or grew up knowing odd words. We’ve heard the stories but we haven’t written them down. As a community we’ve been working on our language now for more than thirty years, and we hope to have a dictionary and grammar soon. Dharug was the first Country colonised, but we are the last to be able to go through language revitalisation. I feel it’s our turn now! But we still have a lot of healing to do, and that’s why we are still where we are today. There is a group of us building and strengthening our community, passing on our cultural knowledge, stories and cultural practices. Some of us are trying to strengthen our connections through our songlines in shared storying with mobs across Australia. Some leaders involved in the language reclamation and revival work include Dharug man Richard Green and Aunty Edna Watson, Dharug women Julie Jones and Jacinta Tobin. I am very grateful for Richard Green who I consider an Uncle and a knowledge holder of our language. We have had other people writing about our language. I admire Amanda Oppliger in her revival work, and Jeremy Steele, as a researcher, who is very supportive and generous with his time and passing on his research. David Wilkins and David Nash have contributed to the language landscape. Of course, Professor Jakelin Troy, a Ngarigu woman from the Snowy Mountains of New South Wales has also led and contributed to the reconstruction of the Dharug Dalang which she refers to as the Sydney language. Jakelin published the Sydney Language dictionary in 1993 and it was re-published again in 2019. Our dalang (language) has really ignited Country, and we are rebuilding and strengthening our foundations. We express our dalang through

46 

R. Moloney

stories of our mob, through song and dance, always connecting it back to Country. My children are learning as I grow in my language journey and so I am actively passing on the language to them as our future. Our language development is still at the stage of listening, learning words and phrases, collecting, repetition and practice. To share language I use a lot of words and phrases in songs. I am learning and teaching at the same time, trying to build the grammar and phrases. As I learn and grow, I change the words in the songs I perform, to make it more complex language-­wise. It makes it hard for my partner Lex, when I suddenly say, on the way to a gig, that he has to perform a new version of a song, as he may have only just learnt the first version! I believe in the power of language. It has a life of its own. Language is about the process of connecting and producing, so that when people come together, they can use it. In my opinion, whoever would like to come on the journey with us is welcome. Language is about forming relationships, developing respectful patience. The process of becoming a leader in the work has been challenging. Our core value is to develop these beliefs and lead by example. I am thankful for the language work that has been done by scholars who have inspired the wider population. Some scholars however have questioned our existence as the Dharug people with Dharug Language. This involves the politics of the Aboriginal Local Land Councils in Sydney and other First Nations people who were displaced themselves from their Countries. They sometimes refer to the Eora Nation, using our word for people (yura). Perhaps for their own sense of belonging they created this modern yet old term to describe a nation of people. This has sometimes had a negative impact on the Traditional families of Dharug ngurra. I really want to “sing up” the Country, ignite the Country, and for language to be empowering. Learning to teach Dharug has been a process of trial and error, building grammar, making resources from scratch. In my teaching and mentoring I promote the use of realia (posters, objects), visual resources and artefacts and transitional language, including gesture. Hands on objects, visual arts and the way we use movement and body language to transition from one place to another are really important as part of the language teaching and learning. In my teaching I use my weaving, a possum skin coat or a coolamon. Cultural values and

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

47

traditions are really embedded in those things, and they can be used to drive and motivate language use. In these ways, communicating with everyday language, gesture and movement, can go hand in hand with realia. My husband Lexodious Dadd conducts learning sessions in many venues and schools. Lex plays his ukulele and sings in language. He uses puppets and wooden artefacts, and he talks about history, language and song. Lex also runs a radio program on Blue Mountains radio 89.1 every Friday 2–4 pm. We run camps in language and culture, such as Yellomundee Living Culture Camp, with Macquarie University, Newcastle University, and with NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service. We are proud that the program was a winner in the ‘Benefiting Society’ category at the Australasian Green Gown Awards last year. It will also go on to compete on the world stage against other international sustainability initiatives. We have planted a little seed, and now its growing in reconciliation with Mother Earth. We believe in putting language into Mother Earth. Mother Earth gives us everything we need, and she likes to hear us using language. Dharug Ngurra Aboriginal Corporation was successful in the 2020 Indigenous Languages and Arts Program with First Languages Australia also providing funding for our work. With the help of these two grants, we are getting our mob further connected through language. It will boost revitalisation of the Dharug language, empowering our community to teach our Dalang, collaboratively working towards developing a dictionary/grammar book, an adult language program and digital resources. There will be opportunities to participate in family language camps, sharing in our beautiful language throughout all our Country. Language is about forming relationships, opening up pathways. Our core value is to benefit our mob. This is our vision of where we want to take language. We believe that we cannot get too caught up on the right or wrong way to pronounce or spell, or what word is the right word over another, when these all should be accepted. The language was what it was (past), it is what it is for today (present) and it will be what it will be (future). I believe language is fluid and forever evolving. Changing the words in the song for my husband is an example of this. After all, we are

48 

R. Moloney

the oldest living culture in the world. That says volumes about how we have survived and have continued to thrive. We have developed a phrase in Dharug: Yanama budyari gumadawi. It means to ‘walk with good spirit’. We use it to define and remind people how to act, when respecting each other and Country, how to help others with humility, patience and respect for nura (Country). We think that if we had written the phrase in English, no one would have paid attention. But because it was in Dharug language, it had power with our mob. It is one phrase that can grow and inspire people, to learn in the language, have a better life, be a better person. We hope our work supports a vision of culture and language woven together activating our nura (Country) and yura (mob), into wider and global Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities. Marri didjurigura ngyini A big thank you! The work of Corina and Lex can be seen at these links: https://au.linkedin.com/in/corina-­wayaligili-­norman-­8523ba100 https://www.oric.gov.au/publications/spotlight/culture-­our-­children http://www.bniproject.com/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tXIAeQ-­4sg https://www.mq.edu.au/thisweek/2020/06/01/yanama-­b udyari-­ gumada-­named-­international-­green-­gown-­finalist/#.X31UFcIzaT8

Fulfilling My Aunty’s Dream Kayleen Kerwin Department of Education, Menindee Central School, Menindee, NSW, Australia Ngayi (Hello!) I am a proud Paakantyi woman from Wilcannia, western New South Wales. I was born in 1964 and went to school in Wilcannia. I heard a lot of language from Elders when I was growing up, but most of the Elders are gone now. There was no language taught. Now, only a handful of people speak the language fluently, so it is regarded as endangered. I am

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

49

very glad that the Menindee Central School is teaching Paakantyi to all its students. In the Paakantyi language, “paaka” means river. The Darling River is an important part of Paakantyi culture. The language is spoken by people of the Darling River in western New South Wales, from Bourke to Wilcannia and as far south as Wentworth, near the Victorian border. It includes a few dialects, and some groups identify differently, but we can all understand each other. There are different spellings, Paakantyi is also sometimes spelled as Barkindji. My inspiration is my late Aunty Elsie Jones (1917–1996). Her dream was for language to be taught up and down the Darling River. Aunty Elsie Jones was a devout Christian and she used to have a lot of Christian fellowship at her place. Aunty Elsie learnt language from my great grandmother. But my mum and aunties and uncles missed out on learning, because my grandmother died when my mum was only nine years old, so that generation didn’t learn it properly. In the old days people didn’t speak it out in the open, as they would have been punished by authorities. When I was a little girl I knew bits and pieces from the Elders. The linguist Luise Hercus and others came to Wilcannia in the late 1960s. They would talk to my Aunty Elsie Jones, and make recordings, in the 40 degree heat, on an old reel to reel tape recorder. Luise Hercus compiled the dictionary, and she did a lot of work on the Yarli languages. The teaching of the language started at the Mission school in the 1980s. We had the privilege of reviving Paakantyi and, with the language, the revival of our identity. I had been working at this school since 2005, but I only started teaching language in 2009. There was no training, but I was greatly helped by Robert Lindsay, a teacher at the school. He used to go to see Aunty Elsie and record her. I have three little boxes of his language recordings. He continues to sit in my classes and help me out. He was my English teacher when I was at school here in the 1970s. We used to have a Paakantyi class here every Wednesday night, where he learned it himself, and then he helped us put it together. My cousin Murray Butcher is a very fluent speaker. He is Aunty Elsie’s grandson. He has recorded stories like The Ngatji and the Paddlesteamer. The Ngatji is a spirit creature that lives in the river. It’s a way to keep kids away from the river, keep them safe. We also have a lot of recordings of

50 

R. Moloney

Granny Annie Moisie, from the 1960s. She was the ancestor of lots of people in Wilcannia. In the recordings, she speaks and sings in language, and we play them sometimes for the kids. We have a digitised Paakantyi dictionary. We have children from many different countries at Menindee Central School. I teach the whole school, from Kindergarten to Year 7 and 8, both indigenous and non-indigenous. When the children are learning language, they sit and listen respectfully, and then I hear them throwing around some of the words in the playground. They mostly know simple vocabulary for animals and birds, body parts, family words. The children go home and tell their parents about it and maybe teach them a bit, so the parents are supportive. We feature a “Paakantyi word of the week” in the school newsletter. The vocabulary for family members is important, in learning kinship and being close to Country. I put a lot of songs together in language, as I have learnt that children learn much better in song. My cousin Murray helped to produce books through the Paakantyi Language Circle, for the Indigenous Literacy Foundation. The books, both by Faith Baisden, are Lenny and the Big Red Malka and No Tharlta on the Bus. We take pride in seeing the language in print. We would like to expand, and get more resources made. I sometimes use online resources on the classroom smartboard. We have a big NAIDOC week celebration, but we also do Harmony Day, where all the children bring food from their countries, and everyone cooks a dish. Aboriginal people take kangaroo, fish, maybe emu, and we teach dance moves of the animals and birds. We borrow ideas from other language groups. I am still learning every day. I say to the kids, “I learn every time with you, we are learning together”. But to teach and learn, you can’t pick up the dictionary and just read it. You have to hear the language, use it, learn the pronunciation. An important thing for me is getting together with other language teachers from other groups. We support and share and swap our best ideas and teaching methods. The NSW Aboriginal Education Consultative Group produced an app with five different language groups, and Paakantyi is one of them. On the app you can hear the vocabulary and it’s a tool that kids like to use. We also have some of our work and recorded stories at the NSW State Library stories, the Museum of Contemporary Art, and in the Sydney Royal Botanic Gardens.

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

51

Language is my connection to Country, and I’m very passionate about fulfilling my Aunty’s dream. I feel that that’s my gift to the Paakantyi nation, up and down the river. I want to revive it, and to keep it surviving for thousands of years, generation after generation. Pami-thuma (goodbye!) Some links to Kayleen’s work and to Paakantyi resources: http://ourlanguages.org.au/teachers-­urged-­to-­learn-­local-­language/ https://www.sl.nsw.gov.au/story-­told-­paakantyi https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDvcvVZswCQ http://www.endangeredlanguages.com/lang/2564/samples/7180 https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/429953095671279645/?au tologin=true https://researchers.mq.edu.au/en/publications/the-­n gatji-­a nd-­ the-­paddlesteamer

Living Without Language Glenn Loughrey Wiradjuri Anglican Church of Australia, Sydney, NSW, Australia Our language is sacred to us. Every Aboriginal language is sacred for those that speak it. Words are given to us by the Land. And these words are sacred. (Margaret Kenarre Turner O.A.M) Language is our soul. (Aunty Rose Fernando, Gamilaroi Elder, 1998)

I have no Language. I speak no Language. I have been taught no Language. The trajectory of my family ensured that no Language was maintained. To survive we had to be fluent in another’s language, culture and lifestyle. We were not Aboriginal. The only good person was a white person and to be good we had to be the best at being white. My father would say of someone he thought was a good person, “that man, he is white man”. Speaking Wiradjuri would have been an anathema in the place in which

52 

R. Moloney

I was born and lived. We assimilated because that was the only thing to do. Perhaps I became an Anglican priest because that was the whitest thing a blackfella could do. Having no language nor the connections to learn a language leaves one isolated and marginalised by your own people, if you actually have people to belong to. Without language and connections to a mob you stand between two cultures, neither of which are welcoming. One you know little about and one who cares not to know much about you. This is a hard place to be. You know who you are because you know who your immediate family is but because of the times in which they lived, all connections to community have been severed, often beyond repair. There is a sense in which I have always known who I was – Blackfella’s Youngfella (Loughrey, 2020) – but I didn’t know what it meant and why I was an outcast because of it. Where I grew up, all tribal Aboriginals, it is alleged, were exterminated by 1876. It was not safe to be black. All Aboriginals at the local blacks’ camp, a type of refugee camp for dislocated Aboriginal people, were moved to a mission in 1900. No-one remained. But we were there, learning to live in a white world with a black grandmother and an Irish grandfather. “Black Irish”, my father would say, without explanation. No one was allowed to speak about it, and no one was told the story. No one has dared to tell the story, until now. Having no language may be fine for those who wish to remain a part of the dominant culture and not wish to honour the heritage running in their blood. For those of us who do wish to embrace the blood which runs in our veins, this becomes a sense of shame and regret and is a barrier to coming out as Aboriginal. ‘I have no culture and I have no language and I do not have black skin, so what am I doing’ plays over and over in your head. What we have to be careful of is not making of language an identity category, as many continue to do with skin colour. In other words, those with language are ‘more Aboriginal’ than those without. In fact, some may say that only those who do speak language, can call themselves Aboriginal. As one who experiences comments about my skin colour (I am a whiter shade of pale!) as evidence that I am not whom I say I am,

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

53

the added burden of having no language can be difficult to bear if it is seen as evidence of authenticity. Yet here I am, picking up a smattering of words and meanings and beginning to piece together a language, but not a tribal language. I have a language and it has taken me a lifetime to understand and recognise that language and to begin to live out of it. Now this language is not the form we think about when we speak of language. Language is primarily used to refer to the spoken and written language of a culture. It is the words we use to communicate and the words we write and read. Yet this is but one small aspect of language. Language can also include the cultural and familial, religious and philosophical concepts that influence our lives. The language I am talking about is the language of our Dreaming which we breathe in every day without being aware we are doing so. What is that language? The embedded Aboriginality found in the Country which I was born out of and carry in my body every day. It is the capacity to see the patterns in Country denoting changes in terrain and ecology, to hear the whisper of the Dreaming on the breeze and birdsong, to walk the Country and listen, in such a way that it tells me what it needs and what I need to do. My father would say, “Walk your Country and if you listen carefully you hear what it has to say; what it wants from you and what you need to do.” This language is all around me and it is both universal and particular to my people. Some who still have our words for it and others, like me, can only hear and see it in its undocumented form. It is intuitive and ubiquitous, requiring an openness to mystery and the mystical. In this way we see patterns and layers and many different configurations of patterns and layers in one place, story or encounter. Language unfolds as you learn to practice ‘whina-nga-rra’ (Grant et al., 2010), the capacity to listen, hear and reflect on what you have heard with all your senses. This is not meditation or mindfulness, it has some similarities with contemplation, but it is not something you learn. It is something you discover you have as you turn yourself toward it. This listening capacity is no less a language and it is the only one many of us have access to. Until I began to understand this and be open to its visitations, I was reluctant to speak as an Aboriginal person for fear that others would see

54 

R. Moloney

me as an imposter. Now I know I have within me all that I need, to be who I am. The lack of a spoken language is not a barrier if understood in this way. This is not to say a spoken language is not important but I have reservations about learning a language just so I can feel authentic. That seems to me to be a form of appropriation. I am an Aboriginal without language and have been that way for a lifetime. To suddenly abandon what I have learnt in this space and seek to add language is a case of reconstructive nostalgia, a wanting to go back to something I never experienced as some form of Utopia. The journey I am on is one without such a language and I suspect that the ancestors are wanting me to engage with this in a way that honors the truth about our modern story. In this story our people were uprooted from land and language and have had to learn to walk a new songline in a new place. In many ways this new songline is not one of joy but could be described as a trauma line and it is vital we embrace this space as a people in order to give birth to new ways of seeing. This is the place I find myself in, living out my Country in a new world is my vocation. It seems to me I am to walk a new path and share my learnings with others, both now and when I die under the tree and place this body of wisdom in the ground for those who follow me to benefit from. Language is not just the patterns but the traditions and wisdom that comes with Aboriginality at birth. These are not taught or learnt in a school or from a body of academic learning but arise out of the intuitive understanding of life you carry with you because of your birth. It unfolds within you as you become open to its presence and have the capacity to embrace it in yourself. Interestingly it comes to people like me who were not exposed to the traditional process of learning and growing up in community, no initiation ceremonies and no moments of awareness and insight. It comes to us when we turn inwards and hear the voices of all who went before us and who are embedded in the Country from which we were born. It also comes to us when we situate ourselves in the time and place we inhabit and are not bullied into relinquishing the space to those with darker skins, language or voice. It is a language of nuance, of listening, hearing and thinking (whina-­ nga-­rra) and takes time and courage to act upon. M.K. Turner (2005)

2  Living Spiritualities on Country 

55

suggests: “Words are given to us by the Land.” These words can, sometimes be spoken, other times they can never be spoken, they are just known and lived without the need to speak them. This language requires a lengthy period of listening, of listening under the noise of our lives for the voice of our Mother, our Country. This screening out includes letting go of voices from the past and present who speak of our less-than status, voices who pretend to know what we need and who we are, voices that speak only for themselves and not for us, voices reminding us to be careful not to upset whitefella. Once we have learnt to listen, we must learn to hear what is there and what is being said. As noted in Aboriginal storytelling, hearing involves listening to the stratum of information in the one-story line. It is the capacity to hear and see patterns, understand the whispers in breeze (spirits at work) and in the interconnections with our kin. Again, learning to hear takes time but is vital to understanding this language. Finally, this practice requires us to think or reflect on the importance of what we heard, not individually but for the whole, the universe in which we live. Reflection is more than inner ruminations, navel gazing or intellectualising. It is the “reflecting I am” just as the listening is “listening I am” and the hearing is “hearing I am”. Winha-nga-rra is action-based and brings about a lived practice and constant evaluation and change in our lives. It is not consistent, in fact often seems very inconsistent, but it speaks the word necessary for the time. Walking with my father, words were rarely spoken but he and the land spoke to each other in the depth of their relationship. He would read the signs the Country showed him and the more he was able to translate it, the more it spoke to him. This was a practice begun in his childhood (his mother said she had nine children and one little bugger) due to his need for action and wandering. It grew with him and he shared it with us, not so much by words but by lived example. In the end he would tell of the ancestors who visited him at night, sitting on the edge of the bed talking to him. This may seem strange, but it is as real as any other conversations. I know because this has begun to happen for me. Living without language? Impossible because language is everywhere, and is not constrained to the ability to speak a set of words of a particular people. It is the collective input of a sensate world and Country and it

56 

R. Moloney

never leaves you untouched or unchanged. I have no particular language group, but I do speak Aboriginal.

References Grant, S., Grant, S., & Rudder, J. (2010). A New Wiradjuri Dictionary. Restoration House. Loughrey, G. (2020). On Being Blackfella’s Young Fella – Is Being Aboriginal Enough? (p. 39). Coventry Press. Turner, M. K. (2005). Everything Comes from the Land. Poster (p. 192). IAD Press, Alice Springs.

3 Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) Robyn Moloney

Introduction Father Shenouda Mansour NSW Ecumenical Council Sydney, NSW, Australia This chapter and Chap. 4 open up the diversity of diaspora experience of language and faith, loosely grouped under their religious affiliations, as Living Faiths. In Chap. 3 we meet eleven individuals offering personal experience of culture, religious upbringing, spirituality and languages, within the Buddhist and Christian faith communities. The chapter features two narratives from Harumi Hayakawa and Venerable Miaoyou about experience within Buddhist traditions, followed by nine narratives from participants connected with diverse Christian churches. Diaspora stories frequently involve complex migration histories and emotions. We R. Moloney (*) School of Education, Macquarie University, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_3

57

58 

R. Moloney

meet Alex Chistiakoff and the Russian Orthodox experience, Tamara Kotoyan and her Armenian identity, Matagi Vilitama and the language of Niue, Susitina Suli and the Tongan church, Sookhee McRoberts and a Korean church experience, Jaroslav Duma and his Ukranian Church community, Dich Dao and Vietnamese Catholic spirituality, Archbishop Mar Meelis Zaia and the Aramaic language of the Assyrian community, and John Hajek and his family’s complex place in the history of the Austro-Hungarian empire and the former Yugoslavia. The spiritual journeys of the narrative writers illustrate the processes encountered at the intersections of religion, culture and identity, mediated through language. Faith and prayer play an important role for many of these narrators. There is an intimacy of praying in the first (or heart) language which draws on a source of deep strength and comfort allowing the heart to engage with God. The narratives reflect the importance of community and belonging, place and displacement both from their country of origins but also within local communities, and relationships with faith communities associated with a place of worship. The narratives illustrate the many complex negotiations of the first language with English, in the stories of migrants living in diaspora in Australia. Language use shapes their community, their choices in faith practice and supports strong identification. The chapter represents an exploration of spirituality, religion and language, and offers illustrations of the shaping of the many-layered linguistic and spiritual identities of the narrators.

 y Relationship with the Heart Sutra M and My Mother Harumi Hayakawa Blue Mountains Zazenkai Sydney, NSW, Australia I was born and bred in Japan. I would say that I’m not religious but I’m interested in spirituality. Since my mother’s death, my interest in spirituality has grown deeper. So I would like to write about my relationship with the Heart Sutra in connection to my late mother.

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

59

I think the Heart Sutra is a gift from my mother. She was and still is a very important person in my life. In her later life, she chanted the Sutra every morning in front of our family Buddhist altar. This Sutra is probably the best-known and best-loved one in Japan. In my childhood, she attended a monthly Buddhist talk in a Tokyo temple and I often accompanied her to the meeting. The participants chanted the Sutra at the meeting. I chanted it along with them though I didn’t know the meaning of the Sutra at all. Sutras, records of Buddha’s teachings, were written in India and they were introduced to Japan via China. Buddhism was born in India and it was spread to other Asian countries. In the sixth century, Buddhism was introduced to Japan. The Heart Sutra was brought from India to China by the Chinese monk Xuanzang and he translated it from Sanskrit into the traditional Chinese language. For a long time, I didn’t understand the Sutra because it is written in what is known as Sino-Japanese language, where many Chinese words have been brought into Japanese. Japanese people read or sing them in Sino-Japanese, but not many Japanese people understand the content of the Sutras. After my mother passed away in 2014, I started to chant the Heart Sutra in the morning in memory of her. Later, I joined a local Zen meditation group near my home in the Blue Mountains, New South Wales. At the meeting, we read the Heart Sutra in English. When I chant the Sutra in Sino-Japanese with my eyes closed, I don’t think about the meaning of the Buddhist teachings but I feel connected with my mother. In my Zen group, we chant the Heart Sutra in English. The English translation is much easier to understand than the traditional Chinese translation. It’s great to be able to comprehend the meaning of the Sutra while chanting. However, when I chant it in English, I analyse words and concepts in the content. I don’t feel any connection with my mother. When I try to recite it in Japanese while reading the scripture, I start to ponder the meaning of each word. I wonder if sacred chants have some power even when the audience may not understand the meaning of the chants. I don’t understand the content of Gregorian Chants or the Koran but they resonate with me. These chants calm me down and I surrender to the beauty of the tunes.

60 

R. Moloney

They can transport me to different places and different times. I feel as if I were in a church in Europe or somewhere in a Middle Eastern city. The differentiation between my culture and other cultures disappears. It seems to me that sacred tunes are more powerful than secular songs. Reciting the Heart Sutra with my eyes closed brings back images of my mother. I see my mother and I chanting the Sutra at the Buddhist temple hall in my childhood. Then I see her at my grandmother’s funeral where my mother is in a black kimono and is pointing out the shape of the candles. The dripping wax from the candles has shaped itself into the Goddess of Mercy and the Dragon God. The dragon is believed to be an auspicious creature in many Asian cultures. As my mother’s mother was very kind to everyone, the Buddhist monk at the funeral said her true Buddhist spirit was manifested in the shapes of these deities. These memories come back only when I chant the sutra. Although the Sutra is extremely brief, written in only 262 characters in the traditional Chinese translation, it contains fundamental concepts of Buddhist philosophy. It explains the essence of Buddhism, which is 空 (KU), or emptiness. Nothing including human existence has ultimate substantiality, which in turn means that nothing is permanent and nothing is totally independent of everything else. Everything in this world is interconnected and in constant flux. This idea of emptiness could save us from the suffering caused by our egos, our attachments, and our resistance to change and loss. Koin Takada, the late Buddhist monk who headed the Yakushi-ji temple in Nara, beautifully summarised the essence of 空(Ku): do not get caught up, do not judge, do not be hung-up on anything, be broad, be broader. This is the mind of 空(Ku) in the Heart Sutra. When I first read Takada’s quote, I felt I was set free. I believe there are some foolish unwritten rules and expectations in society, which we often blindly follow without questioning. We make ourselves little and limited in order to fit in to society. When I read that quote, I felt as if there were no borders, no genders or religious differences, no social hierarchy and so on. We could even create heaven while we are still alive if we choose. The Heart Sutra reminds me of the most important things in being human. I’ve started to

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

61

understand why the Sutra’s title is Prajñāpāramitāhṛdaya, ‘The Heart of the Perfection of Wisdom’. The character 空 also means ‘sky’ in Japanese. I like looking up at the blue sky. The big sky makes me forget what I am worried about. Clouds are changing their forms constantly. Nothing stays the same. They come from somewhere, drift leisurely and carefree and then quietly disappear. They are free from irritation, anger and ego. We could be much happier if we lead our life like clouds. This is my interpretation of 空(Ku). My language and spirit journey with the Heart Sutra began orally in Sino-Japanese. The English translation helped me understand it. I’m now exploring the meaning of the Sutra further in my first language Japanese.

My Journey to Buddhism Venerable Miaoyou Nan Tien Temple Berkeley, NSW, Australia I was born in Singapore and migrated to Australia in the 1970s. I spoke Cantonese at home and when I went to school my early languages were English and Malay. Growing up in Singapore, I was exposed to many dialects and languages. However, Mandarin Chinese was never my strong subject. For many years, I worked in the secular sector. In 2002, I took the Ten Precept vows as a Sramanerika (novice monk) in Fo Guang Shan Buddhist Order, a Chinese Mahayana School of Buddhism, under Venerable Master Hsing Yun of the Fo Guang Shan Order, Kaoshiung, Taiwan. In 2004, I took the full platform ordination to become a Bhikkuni (female Reverend). I would never have dreamt that I could be a Venerable in the Chinese Mahayana Tradition, as I did not read or understand much Mandarin Chinese. My journey to Buddhism came by chance. The first time I entered the Nan Tien Temple, near Wollongong (New South Wales) it was like a homecoming. I took part in several meditation retreats including the Triple Gem and the Five Precepts Ceremony (initiation ritual for

62 

R. Moloney

becoming a Buddhist). During the first few years as a devotee, I also enrolled in a short-term monastic retreat to get a taste of monastic life. Buddhism is a path that defines reason and practice. Buddhism is logical and scientific, and with practice we can be better at what we do. The idea that I am the person responsible for my own destiny is appealing, as I am very much my own person. I can make anything happen and be who I want to be. Sakyamuni Buddha, the Great Teacher, has already shown us the Way. With the knowledge of Buddhist teachings, we learn, contemplate and reflect on the teachings and then we apply and practise them. Insight about self and the world can be gained through understanding and practice. Wisdom is attained and enlightenment is the result. What also really attracted me was Humanistic Buddhism. The teachings of the Buddha focus on humanistic values, social engagement, equality, the environment and its sustainability—without abandoning traditions. At the Nan Tien Temple, I am like the Special Projects Manager, something I have done since 2003. Construction of new buildings, renovations and refits were my responsibility, but my most important project was the Nan Tien Institute, starting with the remediation of the land, to the building of the campus, including the 200 metre bridge across the F1 Motorway. Earlier, I was also in charge of Social Education and conducted many meditation retreats for schools as well as the general public. These events were conducted in English, whilst the Dharma activities (Buddhist teachings) were conducted in Mandarin. Each year we held Refuge Taking Retreats (initiation rituals) and they were conducted in Mandarin first, then translated via a translation machine into English. It was a steep learning curve for me. I was one of the translators whose role it was to translate on the spot. Sometimes there would be pauses. I can understand how our Aussie English-speaking friends had such a hard time adapting; they had to wear the ear pieces and listen for the translation before they knew what to do. As educators, we say learning is a life-long quest and we never stop learning. I see the need to educate our Mandarin speaking brothers and sisters to teach about Buddhism in the local language, English. The more

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

63

Chinese I learned, the easier this negotiation task became. It is important to remember that even the Buddha taught mostly in Pali or Magadhi, the local dialect, in order for local people to understand (Vin. 11, 139). We need to adopt the language of our audience (Dhammika, 2017, p.179). According to our Elders of the Order, there is an understanding of the Dharma (Buddhist teachings) that reaches us beyond the physical and beyond language. I trust in this process even though I may not understand. I will eventually understand because I allow myself to be “open and willing to learn”(薰習). I can read most of the characters now and grasp their meaning and intention, but cannot necessarily write them. Those who read and write Chinese will understand that Chinese characters are really like drawing a picture. The best way to perfect handwriting is through the copying of Sutras; it provides good practice for our handwriting and we can gain insights into a Sutra when writing it. I encourage our students and devotees to do this as a weekly ritual and as a kind of meditative practice. For me, learning Mandarin Chinese was one of the most difficult tasks I have ever done. It requires patience, effort, tenacity and of course practice. Learning a language is very much like knitting; stitch by stitch you find the connections. Connections give you the reason for choosing one word over the other. I was first taught the system of Zhuying (traditional Chinese) and Hanyu pinyin (simplified Chinese) in Taiwan. Word by word I learned Mandarin Chinese by studying the dictionary. Buddhism enriched the Chinese language, as many words were not translated but were borrowed directly from the Sanskrit. For example, Sanskrit words such as Panna or Prajna were pronounced as “Po re” meaning ‘perfect wisdom’, and Bodhi was pronounced as “Pu ti” meaning ‘enlightenment’; these were translations from the sounds of the Sanskrit words. Chinese Buddhism came from India to China. The Buddha spoke Maghadi but his teachings were recorded in Pali or Sanskrit. They were translated into Chinese around 170 CE by the Great monks such as An Shigao and Kumarjiva (Hsing-yun, 2010). Learning a new language is much more than speaking and reading and the application of these two skills. It is also about learning and understanding the culture. The early translators would have gone through a process of debate and deliberation, followed by partial acceptance, and

64 

R. Moloney

later integration and creation of a new way of understanding. This new understanding inextricably connects the culture, thoughts and people of the two countries (Yong You, 2010). In Australia, I think we are beginning to see glimpses of this new understanding between the cultures, and hopefully, in the not too distant future, an “Australian Buddhism” will have evolved. Understanding the language and culture of Buddhism has changed my life. In order to immerse myself into the culture, I had to empty myself of the past and remove any expectations. It is the early morning rise, the mindful meditation and the two Sutras that guide me. I recite the Heart Sutra and the Eight Realizations of the Great Beings every day. I might not understand all of it, but I believe there is a more profound understanding in the study of Buddhism that touches me at a deeper level. I believe language is only one way we communicate. We communicate in many other ways, not just verbally or in writing. There is a knowing without knowing. If I had not heard or learned the Buddhist teachings and applied them in my life, I would not be here today. The understanding, insights and wisdom gained, has allowed me to separate my inner world from the outer world. My inner mind is calm and allows me to create space—to contemplate and let things be and make choices to let things go. When you truly observe the sound of silence, you hear the sound of your own breathing; it helps to keep you calm and induce inner peace within. This is the beginning of meditation: mindful breathing, with no other thoughts. For example, when I wake up in the morning, I open my eyes and I hear the sound of the Bell at 6 am. The sound of the Bell helps me to keep my presence in the moment: we call this mindfulness. I believe the Buddhist goal is foremost to cultivate oneself and be the best one can, for the benefit of humankind and others, as we all share the same planet Earth. One is all and all is one. We have to coexist together. Buddhism has long recognized that all beings are interconnected and we need to take care of nature, the mother Earth. Every action or inaction has a consequence, even if we are unaware of it.

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

65

I pray to the Buddha, May the calamities that we are facing be over soon, May we overcome this with much courage and faith. May we all grow in strength, confidence and hope for a better tomorrow.

 Russian Orthodox Service as an Experience A of Language, Music and Spirituality Alex Chistiakoff NSW Architects Registration Board Rocks, NSW, Australia My family has a mixed background, originating in St Petersburg, with German strains from the nearby Baltic States. My Russian grandfather was well and truly the Russian archetype: blond, shortish with blue eyes. He was a very kind man but with some strange ideas. As with all Russian cultural essentials, church music was part and parcel of my upbringing. I went to church for all major events. They all had wonderful choirs, no matter which church. The Russian church service is an experience of language, music and spirituality, and needs to be witnessed to be appreciated. Priests with poor vocals were simply not allowed to enter the priesthood. The Russian Orthodox service is ascendent, heavenly and joyful. In contrast, my other grandfather, a Lutheran German, was a different influence. He was a lay preacher and took the role of the pastor when the pastor was not well. The Lutheran church was austere, and the message was all about serious hard work in the here and now. In the early 1900s many Russian families like mine moved to the city of Harbin, which was under a 100-year lease from China, to build a military railway. Harbin really became a nineteenth century Russian city in the middle of China. Communist China did not really have much impact on the population of Harbin until much later, and the Russians lived there as they had done before the Revolution. I had no idea who Stalin

66 

R. Moloney

was and my school teacher was a widow of a Russian general who had fought the Bolsheviks. The Chinese population simply co-existed alongside the Russians with very limited contact. In the community life there, professional services (doctors, engineers) were provided by the Russians and supply of products and food by the Chinese. The current popular Ice Festival in Harbin is of Russian origin. At that time, large crosses and chapels were built from ice by Russians at Epiphany, in the depths of winter. Coming to Australia was interesting, but not without trauma. Our extensive family was greatly dispersed among the different nations that offered us visas. I found that churches in Australia were tiny compared to those I had seen in Harbin but my parents continued to attend services. From time to time I look back and reflect on what I have seen and experienced. Regardless of my disagreements with the Orthodox interpretation of Christianity, I am anchored in my early experiences of church services and I still go as often as I can to the Russian Orthodox Cathedral in Strathfield, Sydney. It is interesting that while the Church has seemed conservative in terms of music, there has always been a culture of providing new musical interpretations. In fact, this practice is not new, having its basis in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and maybe earlier. This was possibly a result of Peter the Great’s influence. He had a strong focus on incorporating Western components (such as secular Italian music) into the Russian culture. Russian culture always incorporated the best of others, to its benefit and enrichment. Do I feel uncomfortable with blending Lutheran faith and Russian interpretations? No, not really. It always puzzled me that my sister felt that her life was broken by leaving Harbin. Arriving in Australia as a teenager, I think mine was made more interesting. Now I only hope that the present situation of tolerance for different faiths and cultures in Australia will continue without conflict. On the way to Australia, we felt welcomed, even from the moment we saw the Union Jack, when we gratefully crossed the border from China into British Hong Kong. At the end of the day, while culturally I am Russian/German, politically I am fiercely and appreciatively Australian.

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

67

My Identity as an Armenian Christian Tamara Kotoyan Armenian National Committee of Australia Willoughby, NSW, Australia When people ask about my ethnic background, and I answer with “I’m Armenian”, they often have the follow-up question of either “where’s that?” or “what’s Armenia?” My go-to answer has always been “Armenia was the first nation in history to adopt Christianity”. And I believe that if you really want to learn about the core of what being an Armenian is, then this is the place to start. It is the first thing I learnt about at Armenian school. Even though there may be relatively few Armenians in Sydney (we are a community of around 40,000 people), we still have “Saturday Schools” here. This is a big reason why I can write and speak fluent Armenian. This is what distinguishes Armenian Christianity from the scripture classes I took at my Catholic high school. For my community, Christianity isn’t just a belief system that you can opt out of, it represents the very core of our identity and existence. The introduction of the Armenian alphabet, which was created by Saint Mesrop Mashtots, facilitated the creation of the Armenian Nation, and became the integral vessel that allowed Armenians to speak with God. The very first book that was ever translated into Armenian was the Bible, thus the intrinsic link between Christianity and the inception of the Armenian national identity was cemented. Christianity is not only interwoven with the Armenian identity, but it has also been salient in the survival of the Armenian identity throughout history. A lot of Armenian families that I have grown up with in Sydney have stories about their ancestors escaping the Armenian Genocide that occurred in the Ottoman Empire in World War I. But these stories of survival are a further testament to the fundamental nature of Christianity within Armenian culture. During the fall of the Ottoman Empire, Armenians faced complete extermination. They faced losing not just their

68 

R. Moloney

lives, but having their churches destroyed. Those who survived would recite prayers in secret to hold onto the Armenian language. But it is one thing to learn about your culture and history, oceans away in Australia. It’s another story when you experience these things in real life. The first time I truly learnt the meaning of the word ‘divinity’ was when I set foot in Tatev, a monastery in the village of Syunik, Armenia. The monastery, which dates back to the ninth century, sits high up on the edge of a majestic gorge, overlooking a scene so beautiful that I am at a loss as to how best describe it. Throughout the ninth century and onwards, the best schools in Armenia were built here, and it became known as an epicentre for scholarship and enlightenment. To reach the Tatev Monastery, you can either drive up and along the cliff or travel to the monastery on the Wings of Tatev cable way (which remains the longest non-stop cable way in the world). I had been to Armenia many times as a child, as my parents found it important to keep me connected to my ethnic and cultural identity. But throughout my teenage years, we did not visit for a nine-year period. My first year back as an adult was in 2016, and I was simply over the moon to be able to return, as the memories of being in Armenia as a child were incredibly near and dear to my heart. I will never forget my first day back. To see members of my family in person after all those years was an incredible feeling. During that first week, we decided to plan a journey into rural Armenia, to visit the different historical churches and monuments around the country. Armenia is quite a small nation, but when you embark on a road trip around the country, you will come across the most unique sites. From its landscape to the historical sites which date back to medieval times, Armenia is quite a majestic land. When you reach the Monastery, the present and the past meet. It feels as though any prayer that you recite will reach God more rapidly. The church sits so high up a mountain, that in front of me all I can see is an endless sea of green trees, a natural world that seems to extend into the horizon. It is a sight that is so unique to this land, that it is precisely at this moment you truly understand the concept of the divinity of being a part of a world that was created by a Higher Power. The Monastery and the landscape are together so beautiful, that

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

69

no matter how many adjectives I use to describe it, I probably will not do it justice. Its beauty is not limited to the eye either. I remember when I stepped foot into the Monastery complex, the sacred sound of Gregorian Chants echoed through the entire complex. This was the moment where I truly came to appreciate my own identity as a Christian Armenian. I started thinking about all those years of complaining about having to sit through Armenian school on Saturdays, while all my friends had free time on the weekend. I had a new appreciation for the discipline my parents had instilled in me. Being able to understand what the choir and the priests were saying throughout the service felt like a privilege. The acoustics inside ancient Armenian churches are magnificent, such that when one sings a tune, it feels like there is a godly presence that elevates the melody. I remember standing there and watching one of the priests bless a group of Armenian conscript soldiers that happened to be at the service. Early that year, there had been a four-day war over a disputed territory called Artsakh, which is about three hours from Tatev Monastery. Knowing that these men were probably coming from the experience of war, the church service felt even more meaningful. As the church service in the monastery came to its conclusion, I felt a mix of emotions, ranging from happiness to deep melancholy. Whilst I felt overjoyed to have witnessed such a service, I lamented the fact that it would be a while until I could be a part of something like this again. At that moment, one of the priests approached me, perhaps because he overheard me speaking English to my brother. I took the moment to thank him for his service in Armenian, and I shared my sadness about not being to see such beautiful services more often. His reply was quite simple, as he quoted a passage from John 14:27: “peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” He told me to let go of my sadness, and instead spread this message of peace and love back to my community in Sydney. I have carried this message with me until now. Even during the days when I feel sadness, I try to emulate the lessons of peace that I learned from Tatev Monastery that day.

70 

R. Moloney

Language as the Canoe of the Niuean Culture Matagi Vilitama Uniting Church in Australia Sydney, NSW, Australia “Ko e Vagahau ko e Vaka he aga fakamotu Niue” (Language is the Canoe of the Niuean culture). This proverb is especially true for the diaspora Niueans. Niue is a self-governing island state and a protectorate of New Zealand. Niue lies 2160 km northeast of Auckland, New Zealand, and 385 km east of the Vavaʿu Group of Tonga, in the southwestern Pacific Ocean. The island sits in the middle of the triangle formed by Samoa, Tonga and the Cook Islands, part of the Pacific “liquid continent”. Captain James Cook was the first European to sight the island, but he could not land there due to a display of fierceness by the local population. Cook named Niue the Savage Island. It got its own name back in 1901. Niue language as vaka (‘canoe’) speaks to the role and function of language for a people in diaspora. A canoe is a symbol of movement and travel. It speaks of the Niuean whose culture of migration is now ingrained. Niue’s unique story is highlighted in its tendency to migrate; there are over 25,000 Niueans in New Zealand and an estimated 5000 in Australia while only around 1700 still reside on the island itself. The Niuean language is one of the most endangered in the world. The church is the main custodian of the language in diaspora. It is the only known institution outside of Niue that still uses the language in its preaching, teaching, singing, meetings and community conversations. Whilst there are community language schools in operation in recent years, the churches have historically championed the retention and preservation of the Niuean language. The “liquid church” of Niue is important to our people. The first missionary to arrive was Paulo, in 1849, trained at a theological college in Samoa. He was not welcomed at first. The island Board of Control did not allow any foreigners or returnees to come back to the island, for fear of disease. He tried three times to land, and the third time was accepted.

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

71

In the first three years, he converted just one village and then progressively converted the whole island. English missionaries, the Lawes brothers, followed. Paulo had started translating books of the Bible, gospels and psalms, and the Lawes brothers completed it, with the help of locals. The type of church service was shaped by the Protestant London missionary society, an ecumenical mission. They incorporated many local cultural elements, especially singing and music. Each village developed their own unique style of church singing. The Church took on the role of a central government for the island and developed progress in the island. It established schools and set the curriculum. In 1901 when we had a formal government, it was still run by elders of the church. In early times migration was not a strong feature of our traditional history, unlike other islands. As a self-sustaining isolated single island, travel was not popular. But once Christianity was established, there was greater frequency of ship arrivals, and the appetite for travel increased. Islanders started to travel in the 1880s and 90s, mostly to New Zealand. But the practice of blackbirding took advantage of young men’s willingness to get onto ships. They found themselves indentured on plantations as slave labour and unable to get away. Niue’s population was always small and peaked at around 5000. The biggest emigration happened from 1970 when the airport was built. This began ten years of massive migration. Families went in droves, driven by the need for employment, economic opportunity and education. The translation of the Bible into the Niuean vernacular was significant in that it preserved the world views of the Niuean people. However, I have mixed feelings about this early translation. It was a functional translation and served only to convey the simplest version of the Bible text, using only very simple language. I feel sadness that it did not use any of the poetic language we use and did not capture any of the symbolism and metaphor that capture the heart of traditional language. It would be a challenge to translate it again and use some of these important aspects of language. We are slowly losing our language as the second and third generation grow up in diaspora. The opportunity to speak it is minimal, as children are surrounded by English in all aspects of life except for church. Even

72 

R. Moloney

within families that have language, English becomes the norm. For many, church is virtually the only place where it is heard and spoken. We try to offer Niuean language teaching, and now it has moved online. There are pockets of Sydney where Niuean people gather, but many people are now moving to the western suburbs and so become isolated. Inter-marriage of course will also bring about more loss of identity and language. Niuean culture tends to bend to more dominant Islander cultures. So, for example, if a child is born to a marriage between a Niuean person and a Tongan or Samoan, the child will identify with the stronger culture. I am passionate about my Niuean identity, that is carried through my Niuean language. I feel that to lose a language is to lose part of myself. I feel it is my responsibility to ensure that there are resources available for the next generation to continue. One avenue to do this is through music. I have composed over fifty songs in Niuean since arriving in Australia. The predominant themes in my songs are Gospel, culture, and using our gifts as Niueans to proclaim the Gospel and the Kingdom of God. My purposes are to spread the Gospel, to retain the language, and to express the wisdom of my people through music.

The Tongan Church Community Susitina Suli and Family Uniting Church in Australia Sydney, NSW, Australia Our religious community represents the ‘heart and soul’ for our Tongan people. The church community has a significant impact on how families work together, how people interact with each other and how communities engage. As Tongans we have four core values we try to live by. They are Faka’apa’apa (mutual respect), Feveitokai’aki (sharing, cooperating and fulfilment of mutual obligations), Loto to (humility and generosity) and Tauhi Vaha’a (loyalty and commitment). These core values help shape our identity. These values are also used as a guide for how to treat people and

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

73

for how to live by the anga Fakatonga, also known as the Tongan way. Our language is sacred and should never be used to harm or go against our core values but should be used in a positive and life-giving way. Everything depends on what values a community has and what type of relationship they have with their people and families Valuing money and materialist things above people goes against our values of respect and humility as Tongans. This type of community or family may not necessarily experience the richness of Tongan ‘Ofa (love) and Famili (family). The Tongan language is a beautiful language that stems from the Kingdom of Tonga when the first King George Tupou I made a covenant with God. King George Tupou I (4/12/1797–18/2/1893) was the first king of Tonga but was originally known as Tāufa’āhau. He adopted the name Siaosi, the Tongan version of George, after King George III of the United Kingdom, when he was baptised in 1831. King George Tupou I was crowned King in 1875, but his reign began before that, in 1845 to be exact, because of his missionary work and conquest to bring together the people of Tonga from the three different islands of Tongatapu, Ha’apai and Vava’u. He prevented people of Ha’apai and Vava’u coming into war against each other, because in Tongan custom, it is a disgrace for family members to fight against each other. On the day of his coronation, in November 1875, he prayed over the land of Tonga and gave it to God. In his prayer he concluded that all Tongan people past, present and emerging, are a gift from God. He prayed that the peace of God would watch over the island of Tonga and everything in it: Koe ‘Otua mo Tonga ko hoku Tofi’a which translates to “For God and Tonga are my inheritance”. This statement of affirmation for the people of Tonga relates to our Coat of Arms and continues to be a statement of faith and identity that unites all Tongans today. From that point on, the Tongan language and culture grew from village to village and generation to generation. This also helped formed our identity as Tongans and differentiates us from the other Pacific Islands such as Fiji, Samoa and Vanuatu to name a few. Tonga is the only Pacific island that still today operates as a monarchy with a King and Queen as the head. Our monarchy of King and Queen is the beginning of the stability and strength of our language and culture. Tongans are church goers and the

74 

R. Moloney

Methodist and Free Wesleyan Church are the popular Christian denominations amongst the Tongan people. It wasn’t until the late 1990s that the religion of Islam was introduced to a small percentage of people in Tonga. In the early 2000s Buddhism and Hinduism were being practised in small community halls and church buildings around the island of Tonga. The language and culture are strong, such that traditions from the time of King Tupou I’s rule in 1875, have remained the same even today. For instance, in the schools of Tonga, the language and various Tongan customs are taught throughout each year as a child progresses from primary to high school. The language is so rich that even business owners who are not of Tongan descent learn the language through community engagement with people of all ages. Another example is that Sunday in Tonga is observed as a strict sabbath by all people of Tonga. When King George Tupou I was baptized, he ruled that Sunday is rest day for all Tongans. As a result of the influence of the commandments in the Holy Bible, even to this day, the shops remain closed on Sundays. Tongan religious communities encourage our people to speak the language, and to know the culture and customs for different celebratory events such as funerals, birthdays or weddings. Tongan religious communities help our people keep accountable to the Tongan identity and to the values (respect, sharing, humility, loyalty) that were taught and shared since the first King Tupou made the covenant with God. Tongan religious communities are seen as ‘families’ in the Tongan eye and family is very important and is central to all Tongan people, even today. Tongan culture is beautiful and insightful, but it is hierarchical in the sense that men are dominant in the family and are usually the ones who have power in all aspects of life. Many Tongan religious communities adopt this as a norm which discourages women to speak up and creates barriers that hinder people from fully engaging with God and the people around them. This mentality of men being the only breadwinners, or the idea that men know it all, affects our emerging generations. Our young people tend to neglect our Tongan identity, language and customs if they encounter a negative experience amongst Tongan religious communities. Where there is injustice and mistreatment, our young people tend to either fight for it, or leave the Tongan people and move on. They turn to

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

75

other religious communities to find a sense of comfort, belonging and love. A downside of Tongan religious communities is that culture, status and power can really affect how families and people work together to keep the Tongan identity alive. There is so much to unfold about the Tongan culture, but when our Tongan culture and customs are abused by our parents and grandparents young people tend to join other churches or faith communities. There they find their sense of belonging. When certain parts of the Tongan culture are mistaken as religion, this gets in the way for families and communities to achieve a goal or work together. As an example, Tongan attire for Sunday church is strict for both males and females. Males are expected to wear a sote, tupenū and ta’ovala (a mat wrapped around the waist) of any sort. Females are expected to wear a long dress with a tupenū (wrap) covering the cleavage area and shoulders. They are also expected to wear a kiekie (belt) or ta’ovala as well. But this practice of appropriate Tongan church attire doesn’t quite fit Tongans who grow up in Australia. Because of Western influence, churchgoers in Australia wear anything they want to. Although there are challenges of being a Tongan religious community, the concept of family within the Tongan people is a strong element that keeps us together, to ensure that our identity and language will continue to flourish and will be shared with our emerging generations.

My Roses and Thorns Sook Hee McRoberts New South Wales Department of Education Parramatta, NSW, Australia My life in South Korea was orderly and comfortable. A well-off family, a lawyer husband, a four year old daughter and a teaching career. But suddenly my life took a dark turn, leaving me an emotional wreck. My politically aspirational husband was fatally taken from me. My university degree gave me a teaching career but I no longer felt that I could continue. My family, of course, were very supportive and like

76 

R. Moloney

50% of South Korea’s population were Buddhis. An exception was my aunty in Seoul who was a practising Christian. It was to her that I turned. As a committed Christian in her daily life she welcomed me, determined to help and comfort me. She wanted to show me that there was a light at the end of my darkest hour. I could not face socializing. Everything in Korea reminded me of my late husband. My daughter would not have a father to look up to. Her future looked bleak. My aunty in Seoul had church friends in Korea and in Australia. She knew through those friends of an Australian divorcee businessman who, like me, was seeking a family environment for his daughter. His business determined that he was often away from home. My aunty and her friends proved to be very insightful match-makers. My mourning period had left me socially confined, unable to socialize beyond my father’s house. My aunty knew through her friends that the businessman from Australia would be soon visiting Korea and likely to be there for some weeks. She was determined along with her friends that I was to meet this gentleman and try to take an interest in the future. I learned that he was Christian and part of a small Anglican community with local Christian friends. Although I had a loving relationship with my father and mother they were not happy for me to meet socially with a foreigner. The conduct of widowhood in Korea was culturally conservative. However my brothers, like my aunty and her Christian friends, were worried about my future in Korea and made every effort to take me out of the depression that engulfed me. The Australian man’s visit, partly organised by my aunty and her Australian friends, resulted in my betrothal and ultimately our marriage. My future was destined to be in Australia. My new home community did not have any Korean residents or reminders of my bleak times. I found that there is however a very active Korean community in Sydney. I received a warm Australian welcome from the local Anglican community and other friends. My new husband’s Korean Christian business friends were also instrumental in my integration effort. My daughter adapted to the Australian way of life very quickly although her mother tongue was put very much on the backburner. My friends at

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

77

the local church were, of course, now treating me as a local, and they found it hard to recognise the difficulties I faced. The church needed to cater to the majority of its congregation. My difficulty with the English language and culture was not a major consideration for them. Not understanding the sermon and its lessons left me at a loss and feeling like an outsider. I was not getting what I needed. A visit to a Sydney Korean church illustrated for me the value of cultural familiarity. It was a great relief and outlet for the emotions that I had bottled up over the early days of coming to grips with my new environment. It was great to participate in a service in the Korean language with a congregation who I felt comfortable and relaxed with. Every word of the Pastor’s message was sinking in. The sermon and the message had me in tears. I felt enlightened and free of great weight. It was a comforting experience that I had not enjoyed previously. Good fortune followed. A career opportunity opened up for me. I was offered a position in Sydney where I was able to resume my Korean community social and cultural activities and attend a Korean church where services were in Korean without the dark reminders of the past. The Korean church in Sydney had freed me. I felt a part of it. Eventually the Korean church in Sydney was extended to become a multi-ethnic church, One Family Church (OFC), which welcomed people of all nationalities and ages. OFC maintains its Korean service but suggests to the congregation that they attend the service most relevant to their situation. Being part of a multicultural family, it was suggested to me that I attend the English service. In fact my husband was not interested in attending the church at all, due to his personal religious experiences. However he is most welcoming to my Christian clergy friends and good humoured when they attempt to recruit him. My recent experiences may be an example of the challenges occurring in various churches making efforts to address the needs of migrants, and migrant language issues. My church, despite a very diverse ethnic congregation, found a solution in moving to a service in English, rather than fostering individual language development. This may well increase the size of the church’s congregation but it does not contribute to widening the language competency within congregations. As a Language Consultant myself, I believe anything that diminishes the use of migrants’ language

78 

R. Moloney

skills is a retrograde step. There is also a need to develop and promote acceptance of second languages, to educate the broader English speaking community. Generational differences make it difficult for churches to direct resources. There used to be a community language school available at the church for second generation students. There are headphones available for the people in need of translation. However technology is not the answer. The spontaneity and spiritual nature are lost. These are just some of the issues the church must grapple with. My experience hopefully will help those who face similar problems.

A Family Life in the Ukranian Community Jaroslav R. Duma OAM Honorary Consul of Ukraine Sydney, NSW, Australia I consider myself to be an integral part of the Ukrainian community, with very deep roots both in Australia and in Ukraine. I was born in the large regional city of Geelong, Victoria, and grew up in a strong Ukrainian family and community. And yet, in both countries I have been and still am, considered a foreigner. Both my parents are Ukrainian. My father, born in Stanyslaviv (now Ivano-Frankivsk) in Ukraine migrated to Australia after the Second World War, following a period in a Displaced Persons camp in Germany and a short time in England. He arrived in Australia on the ship Skaubryn in 1952. My mother was born in the former Yugoslavia, to parents who had left Ukraine in the 1920s. She migrated to Australia with her parents also on the Skaubryn, although a different voyage to that of my father, in 1952. My parents, Roman and Maria, met at the migrant camp in Bonegilla (Victoria), and ultimately married in Geelong in April 1953. Ukrainian was the lingua franca of our home, effectively from birth. I spoke almost no English until I started school in 1960. My earliest recollection about the Ukrainian language being an important issue in our

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

79

family was an incident just before I started primary school. There was a “strong suggestion” by a teacher at my school, about the need to speak English at home. My father said to him: “one of the reasons I left Ukraine was because I was not allowed to speak Ukrainian there, as the language was forbidden under the communist regime in the Soviet Union… I am now in a free democratic country, which allows me to speak the language of my choice”. My father, however, always had the deepest respect for the country which he now called home, and throughout his life, and even prior to his immigration, my father could speak English well, in addition to several other languages. Our family life was always intricately associated with the Ukrainian community. Being Catholic, we always attended a Ukrainian Catholic liturgy on Sunday. The services were conducted in Ukrainian, although early in my childhood I do recall some of the liturgy being in ‘Old Slavic’, staroslovyanske, which I did not really understand. The Ukrainian Catholic Church and the Ukrainian community were effectively my second home. From the age of around 4, I always prayed in Ukrainian as was taught by my mother. In those days, it was a requirement to know prayers verbatim when doing First Holy Communion as a six or seven year old. My father was very active in community building, including the actual physical structures of the community/youth centres and the church. Weekends, especially for us as children, were times spent at Ukrainian events. Ukrainian Saturday school, the Ukrainian Youth Association, the Ukrainian Catholic Church, Ukrainian concerts, Cossack dancing, youth camps and weekends away with community groups, all became a lifestyle for myself and my siblings. But, I did rebel. There was a stage, when I, like many of my Ukrainian community friends, rebelled against being different from our Anglo school mates. I too wanted to play football on a Saturday instead of going to Ukrainian school. My father took a smart approach to this. I suggested to him that I didn’t have time for Ukrainian school as I had too much homework and needed to study (this coming from an 11 year old!). He agreed, so on my first Saturday at home I spent the morning doing homework and studying, and in the afternoon I was ready to play footy. “But, you have too much homework and need to study”, was the response from

80 

R. Moloney

my father. After one more similar Saturday morning, I understood that I needed to find the time to do it all – be at “Ukie” school, play footy and do much more. Very shortly, after these interesting beginnings, I came to embrace all things Ukrainian. I became extremely active in the community and effectively over the next 50 years to the present day, I became a prominent leader in the community. I have occupied positions in many of the community’s organisations in Geelong, Melbourne and for the last 40 years in Sydney. On 12 June 2006, as part of the Queen’s Birthday Honours, I was awarded the Medal of the Order Australia (OAM) for “Services to the Ukrainian Community”. I had worked (voluntarily) in many leadership roles for over 30 years in the Ukrainian community. This was a most humbling honour. In my many roles in leadership, I had worked with many dozens of other volunteers, without whom I could not have achieved anything: getting things done, organising events, functions, programs and so on. I was most honoured and proud that the benefit I could provide to the broad mainstream community was through providing a service to those in the Ukrainian community—this service was something which would help make them great citizens of Australia whilst maintaining their own Ukrainian heritage. I should also note that I have received some recognition by the Ukrainian government. In 2017, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Ukraine appointed me as the Honorary Consul of Ukraine in Sydney. Again, a humbling honour to serve the country of my heritage for the benefit of those living in the country of my birth.

Vietnamese Is Our Heart Language Dich Muc Dao Vietnam National University Hanoi, Vietnam I was born and raised in a Catholic family in Vietnam and it is very common for the children of a Catholic family to become Catholic. My religious practices are tied to my family and Catholic parish. The Vietnamese

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

81

language, my mother tongue, is a tool for me to communicate with and pray to God every day. Another function of language is for thinking. Vietnamese is the sole way for me to practise meditation or to be in deep contemplation of the Word of God in the Bible. During the years I spent studying in Australia, I often used my mother tongue in my religious practice, such as when saying prayers, the rosary, reading the Bible, and singing hymns and carols in the Catholic Mass and liturgy. Therefore, I prefer going to Vietnamese Mass in a Vietnamese Catholic community rather than going to English Mass in an Australian Catholic parish. This gives me the opportunity to understand more profoundly what I have listened to and said in these spiritual practices. In other words, I can connect with my beliefs on a deeper level. The Vietnamese language is a unique tool for me to be in deep contemplation and reflection of God’s Word in the Bible. The Vietnamese language is our heart language. I had an experience, which I will remember for the rest of my life, which is a vivid example of the relationship between my native language and my spiritual experience. This was at an Easter Vigil Mass in the Vietnamese language, celebrated by a Catholic Vietnamese Australian community. At this mass, the Vietnamese choir performed the famous hymn “Exodus” which was always sung during the Easter Vigils in Vietnam. The lyrics of this song were originally a famous poem that was printed in the Judaic Book of Exodus (It also appears in the Christian Old Testament). This poem was created and sung to glorify God who took the Jews safely across the Red sea. At the Easter Vigil mass, this hymn was sung in the Vietnamese language by the choir’s tearful voices and was sublimated by the heroic bass melody. When I heard this song I felt a chill (frisson) and my soul and heart were filled with all kinds of emotions. I understood how the words/lyrics of a song in my heart language touch me deeply and I think that only my native language can touch my heart in spiritual practice. No foreign language can do that. Vietnamese is the national and official language of the country of Vietnam, spoken by more than 98 million people and more than 4 million Vietnamese nationals living in over 100 countries and territories. The first Vietnamese arrived in Australia in 1920. However, the number of Vietnamese immigrants residing in Australia was not large, with about 1000 people at the beginning of 1975. Vietnamese people arrived in

82 

R. Moloney

Australia in great numbers as refugees from April 30, 1975, and their population had reached approximately 256,000 by 2020. This makes the Vietnamese-born population the sixth largest migrant community in Australia. In addition, the Vietnamese language of the Vietnamese-­ Australia community has been one of the fastest-growing language communities, and it is one the most common languages spoken at home other than English. Like other immigrants residing in host countries, the Vietnamese people who live in Australia try to maintain the language that they brought with them along with their traditions, customs and culture. There is a wide range of very active social and community activities which support Vietnamese language and culture. These activities include Vietnamese religious, cultural and social activities, Vietnamese newspapers, magazines and radio stations, and Saturday Vietnamese Schools of the Vietnamese Australian community which are devoted to maintaining the Vietnamese language and culture. The Vietnamese language is a way for us to remember our origins and our heritage. It is also a means for us to practise faith. Buddhism, Catholicism, Protestantism, Muslim, Caodaism and HoaHao Buddhismare, the six major religions in Vietnam. Aside from these, the most popular and time-honoured custom of the Vietnamese—and of some ethnic minorities—is ancestor worship and the commemoration of death anniversaries. Catholicism was introduced in Vietnam from the beginning of the sixteenth century by European missionaries. Catholicism in Vietnam has gone through five centuries with many vicissitudes of history. At present, according to the 2019 census, Catholicism is the largest religion with almost 5.9 million followers, making up about 6.1% of the total Vietnamese national population. In term of the relationship between Language and Spirit in Vietnam, Catholicism made an extremely important contribution to the formation and development of the modern Vietnamese language. That was in the mid seventeenth century, Western missionaries, devised the “Chu Quoc Ngu” (literally: “National Language script/writing system”) which is the modern Vietnamese script, created from the Latin alphabet. When coming to evangelize in Vietnam, one of the first obstacles that Western

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

83

missionaries encountered was the language barrier. It is necessary to recall here that at that time, the Vietnamese script was written in Chinese script (₎Ꮠ) or Nom script ( ၾ). Thus, the Vietnamese language was a strange foreign language, particularly the writing system of the Vietnamese characters, which was too difficult for Western missionaries to study. Consequently, the Western missionaries which were Portuguese, French and other nationalities used the Latin alphabet with the addition of diacritics in order to create a Vietnamese script. In other words, they “modified the Roman alphabet with accents and markers to suit the particular consonants, vowels, and tones of the Vietnamese language” (Britannica, 2014). However, Alexandre de Rhodes (1591–1660), who was a French missionary, has the greatest merit in strengthening and developing the “Chu Quoc Ngu”. He collected, supplemented, compiled modern Vietnamese script and published a Vietnamese-Portuguese-Latin dictionary, with Annamese grammar in Rome (Italia) in 1651. The modern Vietnamese language, with its romanized script, was devised to facilitate the evangelization and dissemination of doctrinal and biblical texts, and it was used only in Christian communities at first. However, this modern Vietnamese written language has become a powerful tool to eradicate the illiteracy of Vietnamese people at the beginning of the twentieth century because of its simple writing system. This modern Vietnamese script became the national Vietnamese language for all of us. It is our heart language, not only for Catholic or other religious believers in their spiritual practices, but it is functional for all the many different areas of Vietnamese social life.

 he Aramaic Language T of the Assyrian Community Archbishop Mar Meelis Zaia Assyrian Church of the East Erbil, Iraq The neo-Aramaic language has an interconnectedness with the values and traditions of the Assyrian community. I was exposed to it, as I believe is

84 

R. Moloney

the case for most Assyrians, from birth. The influence of the language carries through from a very young age and becomes the norm for an individual. For myself I have always felt that Aramaic is my first language, regardless of the fact that I was born in a Western country. I have used the neo-Aramaic language frequently since my early childhood and also continue to use the language in its more ancient form, Aramaic, where neo-­ Aramaic assists in learning it. The native indigenous language of Aramaic, or as we call it ‘the mother tongue’ is one of rich history. Many martyrs have been sacrificed, many villages of our people have been overturned, many flags burnt, and monuments destroyed, all to keep the language alive for the following generations. In addition to this, the very fact that Aramaic was the spoken language of Christ himself adds a priceless value to it, a language which I am very honoured to be able to call my own. The use of such an ancient language in the modern era is a testament to the history which brought it here. Its use in the community, predominantly within liturgical church services around the world, becomes a vessel which carries the honour of all the martyrs who both lived and died to preserve it. Consequently, when the language is used, at a personal level there is a feeling of both fulfilment and hope. Fulfillment in the sense that the language is alive within the Assyrian communities around the world as was envisioned by our ancient forefathers, and hope in the sense that the use of the language heavily contributes to our Assyrian community carrying their heritage, culture, and church traditions with them into a future where it is most necessary. Arabic and English are both established languages within ancient and modern history, with the present figures claiming that English is spoken by just under 400 million people around the world, while Arabic is spoken by around 300 million people. However, such figures are not attributed to Aramaic, regardless of its undeniable historical value. There is an increasing need and responsibility for the language to be used through the various communities around the world, not only for its survival, but because the language adds precious value to the very diverse communities of people situated in different regions of the world. I personally take on this responsibility and encourage the use of the language in harmony with other languages in the daily life of the Assyrian community.

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

85

Aramaic plays a very crucial role in the liturgical services within the Assyrian church of the East. Giving worship in Aramaic adds a different texture to the liturgy. Reading the liturgy formed by our ancient forefathers in the language in which they used to construct the liturgy, deepens the meanings of the words and writings. It adds a value carried by the history embedded within the language. I believe that the Aramaic language adds to the completeness of the liturgy, allowing for a manifestation of different aspects and meanings of the liturgy, and representation of the exact words originally utilised by the church fathers who wrote the liturgies. Aramaic is closely correlated with the spirituality of an Assyrian believer. The Aramaic language is a bonding mechanism for a scattered Assyrian community in the Western world. As the Assyrian people have been without a homeland for centuries, many of the new generation Assyrians have grown up in a Western environment and developed Western traditions. Consequently, their native language has become a strong means of identification for the Assyrian people in a world where the retention of identity is essential to the survival of the nation. We need to retain the heritage passed onto us through the blood of our forefathers. In belonging to the Assyrian community and being identified predominantly through the language of Aramaic, there is a responsibility to encourage the use of the language within the younger generation.

 rossing Boundaries in Australia? C The Religious Experiences of Growing Up in an Ethnically Mixed Family from the Former Yugoslavia John Hajek University of Melbourne Parkville, VIC, Australia The personal stories of migrants and their children from central Europe in Australia aren’t particularly well-known – and the place of religion is a

86 

R. Moloney

particular lacuna. In this narrative I sketch out fragments of my religious experience growing up and then living as an adult in Australia. I want to show that while religious identity may be personal, it is complex, tied not only to small, often unexpected events one lives or witnesses, but in the case of migrants from the former Yugoslavia it is also tied very much to ethnic identity, and national histories and memories that are hard to leave behind. While it is known that Australia has become ever more culturally and linguistically diverse over recent decades as a result of expanded migration from all parts of the world, in the immediate post-war period until the early 1970s arrivals to the country were largely from Europe. Such a pattern was an undoubted consequence of the White Australia policy – which severely restricted migration from non-European sources for decades. Beyond settlers from the United Kingdom, the Italian and Greek communities still today remain the largest European migrant communities in Australia – each indelibly linked to Roman Catholicism and Greek Orthodoxy respectively. But large numbers also arrived from other countries such as Germany, the Netherlands and Yugoslavia. While Germany and the Netherlands are relatively linguistically homogenous, their populations are traditionally split between Catholics and Protestants. Yugoslavia is in this context a case apart: when it existed it was always ethnically divided – along complex and intertwining linguistic and religious lines. For decades Australian authorities conveniently overlooked this reality, preferring to refer to those from Yugoslavia and their children born here as ‘Yugoslavs’ and to their language(s) as ‘Yugoslav’. AngloCeltic Australians followed suit: it’s hard to keep track of all the inner divisions when everyone from Yugoslavia seems to be the same to outside observers. The ethnic-religious reality is very different and it’s in this context that I grew up in the 1960s and 1970s in the western suburbs of Melbourne populated almost exclusively by so-called New Australians. My family is ethnically mixed – mostly Slovenian and Croatian but in reality much more complex – just like the former Yugoslavia – and to understand the ethnic and religious experience of my family, some understanding of history is essential. But that history is neither strictly chronological nor linear and cannot really be explained in a few short words. Like everything about the former Yugoslavia, it is complicated. It was and

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

87

is always on the minds of everyone in that country, just as it was and is within my family. Suffice to say the religious and ethnic elements of this history continue to have a fundamental effect on my family’s life today, as well as on my experience of religion growing up in Australia. Yugoslavia, known until 1926 as the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes was first established out of the ashes of the Great War or World War 1 (1914–1918) and the final collapse of the old imperial order of central and eastern Europe. Overnight the multi-ethnic and multi-faith Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman Empires were no more, Like Austrians, and to a slightly lesser degree Hungarians, Slovenes and Croats are overwhelmingly Catholic – and this religious tradition is still an essential part of being Slovene and Croatian. For Serbs on the other hand, religious identification as Serbian Orthodox is core to Serbian ethnic identity. After the awful tribulations of World War 2, there was a period of forty years of enforced ethnic and religious peace, with the rise of the communist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia led by Tito. In practise the regime was oppressive, and during all of this time ethnic and religious awareness remained strong – even thousands of kilometres away in Australia. So where does my personal story in Australia come into all of this and why does the history of Austro-Hungarian Empire and Yugoslavia I have briefly outlined above matter? My family in Australia was ethnically mixed but overwhelmingly Catholic – a hangover of Austro-Hungarian times that simply repeated itself through Yugoslav times and after migration to Australia and elsewhere. My mother’s side is Slovene. Of seven siblings including my mother – living today in Australia, Germany and Slovenia, only one married a Slovene. With one exception, all have married Catholics. My father’s side is mixed – Croat and Czech, although he generally identified as Croat and we always spoke Croatian with him. Of four siblings, only one married a Croat and again with one exception, all married Catholics. It’s a Catholicism I have always called ethnic rather than strongly religious, and it had, certainly in my childhood, one critical boundary that I was very aware of: the line that separated Roman Catholics and Serbian Orthodox (more simply known to us as pravoslavci, i.e. Orthodox) in the former Yugoslavia. As a child growing up, I recall we always knew the ethnic and religious affiliation of anyone we knew from Yugoslavia. Such

88 

R. Moloney

facts were quickly established or assumed – and relationships were based on these facts. As it happened, we had no contact at all with Yugoslav Muslims (muslimani). We had some contact with a few Macedonians who had married Croats we knew– but they spoke Macedonian and although they were Orthodox, they were Macedonian Orthodox, so that didn’t really matter – and their children were raised Catholic (or so we assumed). We also knew Volksdeutscher (Germans), Slovaks, Hungarians and Ukrainians from the former Yugoslavia – but they were all Catholic. My father had – through work – one Serbian friend whose family we saw from time to time but that friendship was always very carefully managed – by avoiding politics and religion as much as possible – and tensions did arise from time to time. On both sides of my family, one sibling in Australia had married a German from the Protestant north. Looking back now, presumably they were Lutherans but this fact was never discussed, and they never said anything about it that I can recall. In any case we knew nothing about German-speaking Protestantism since it wasn’t part of Yugoslav history anyone could remember and so didn’t really figure in the traditional ethno-religious boundaries we understood. They were Germans and that was much more important, and in any case their children were christened as Catholic –this is what happened to every other child of my generation in the extended family, and that’s just the way it was. With this complex background, what was life like for a migrant child growing up Catholic in Australia decades ago? Catholic identity was obviously important in my family since I, like all my cousins, was expected to take all the sacraments over time. My religious development started on weekends as a small child at the local Marian college -with religious instruction (RI) provided by elderly American nuns. The local parish church in Altona North had still not been built, but when it was, I attended mass and undertook RI there immediately afterwards. At the start of secondary school we moved to another suburb – this disrupted progression to confirmation and I had to start over. Parish churches we attended were dominated by Italians who attended them in great numbers and their religious life and practices mirrored in many respects what I experienced in my family, such as the importance of rituals, and Catholicism as an important marker of identity and family life. However,

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

89

unlike Italians, children of my generation did not attend Catholic schools – that kind of participation in Catholic life was not important in my family. Most of us generally attended public schools, while I went to a well-known Uniting Church secondary school where I encountered anti-Catholic prejudice for the first time. I had no idea it existed in Australia, least of all among teenagers. I’m sure the experience would have been the same for non-Catholics attending Catholic schools at the time. I was rudely reminded of sectarianism again as a 20 year old in the early 1980s when a co-worker told me she could never invite me over to her mother’s house because I was Catholic. These episodes were the last gasps of the serious religious rivalries that affected Australia so much until the 1950s and 1960s, but they were all the same genuinely surprising. I had another small religious awakening at university – where I had my first real contact with Irish Catholicism as lived by Australian families. We had had many priests of Irish background but I had never seen Irish Catholicism in practice outside the church. This was a very different thing from the ethnic Catholicism I knew and genuinely surprising to me: it was really devout, and much more rigid. Tightly held religious belief seemed far stronger than the ritual that punctuated life in my family. Clearly the Irish had a very different history from ours – and it showed. Given the ethnically mixed nature of my family, there was never any reason for those who (like me) belonged to the 2nd generation to marry someone from within our ethnic group(s), since what group was it anyway? We were also never told we had to marry Catholics, even though being Catholic was the most unifying element in my extended family. But most of us did anyway: Irish-Australian Catholics, Scottish Catholic, Polish Catholic, and so on. A few married Protestants, and at the time that was fine, as we mostly married in Catholic churches. There was only one major religious bridge to cross in all of this time. In the early 1980s one cousin on my father’s side announced she was going to marry a Serb. After long discussions across the family, it was agreed that times and attitudes had changed (that is, referring back to the homeland), and that we should support this union. Some compromise on both sides was needed all the same. To avoid Catholic or Serbian Orthodox ceremonies, they agreed to be married in an Anglican ceremony. And so it happened. In practice it didn’t work out particularly well, serving to confirm

90 

R. Moloney

pre-­existing attitudes and beliefs about crossing that particular ethno-­ religious boundary. A small change in attitudes only occurred a decade later when as a result of civil war in the 1990s, some paternal cousins ended up in Australia. Somehow we found each other and have re-established family links. They left Croatia because theirs was a mixed Catholic Croat-Serbian Orthodox family, and war had re-entrenched negative attitudes and nationalisms across that boundary in their lives. The successful married life of these cousins in Australia has served a useful purpose in showing that happiness across that particular ethno-religious divide is possible after all. Growing up Catholic in Australia has also had effects on other aspects of my experience and understanding of Catholicism. From an aesthetic perspective, Australian Catholic churches, it turns out, are relatively moderately decorated – thanks to the influence largely of the more dour Irish Catholics. I had thought based on years of religious services in a Uniting Church school and comments by Protestant friends that parish churches here were far too colourful and bright for them, and somewhat irreligious as a result. They clearly hadn’t seen Austro-Hungarian Counter-­ Reformation Baroque: I was amazed by it as a ten year old visiting my mother’s village and again when returning to it as an adult. A small parish church of no particular architectural merit but full of ornate colours and shapes that overwhelmed my Australian Catholic sensibilities and took some getting used to. Now that my father has passed, religious rituals have renewed importance, but of a new type at the other end of the lifecycle. There are annual masses mentioning his name and regular visits to his grave – just like they still do in the village today. Even the moment of his funeral mass was delicately managed, since shared religion may still mask ethnic sensitivities. Efforts to find a Croatian priest were not successful, and after discussion with his closest relatives, a trilingual mass – in English, Croatian and Slovenian – was given by a Slovenian priest. There was something for everyone, and in circumspect a better reflection of my father’s own religious life in Australia. He may have attended masses in English on major feast days at the local parish church where he lived, but with my mother he also made regular visits to services at the Slovenian Catholic Mission in Kew that tends to Melbourne’s ageing and shrinking Slovenian

3  Living Faiths Section 1 (Buddhism and Christianity) 

91

community. I have no recollection of us ever attending Croatian Catholic mass or organizations, and we didn’t like him crossing the language boundary in our family by speaking Slovenian. After all, it wasn’t his language, his was Croatian and we thought he should stick to that. But thanks to him three generations of his family now attend Slovenian mass each year to remember him.

References Britannica, The Editors of Encyclopaedia. “Quoc-ngu”. (2014, December 10). Encyclopedia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/topic/Quoc-­ngu. Accessed 20 May 2021. Dhammika, B. S. (2017). Balance. Guild to Buddhism A to Z. Dummy Book Company.

4 Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism Robyn Moloney

Introduction Very Rev Dr Father Shenouda Mansour NSW Ecumenical Council Sydney, NSW, Australia This chapter features personal narratives from individuals associated with the Living Faiths of Hinduism, Islam and Judaism. Swati Doshi teaches Hindi to support connectedness in the next generation. Milind Sathye documents his languages and Hindu religious practices in Marathi, Hindi and Sanskrit. Varsha Daithankar makes strong links between being multilingual and being open to multi-faith experience, and encourages her children to visit the temple, gurudwara or church with equal respect. Pandit Prakash Dhodari writes of his role at the Nepalese Hindu Society of Australia. Ravi Anandarajah and his family had to leave Sri Lanka, but

R. Moloney (*) School of Education, Macquarie University, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_4

93

94 

R. Moloney

they work hard to maintain their Tamil Saivist practices and maintain their belief in the spiritual value of extensive community service. Abdullah Ibrahim, as a teacher of Indonesian, reflects on the Afghan cameleers who trekked outback Australia, naming places using both Persian and Arabic words. Dr. Teuku Chalidin Yacob explains his motivation for teaching language connected to an Islamic spiritual context. Zohra Aly, through the work of her husband and herself at the Imam Hasan Centre and language school, believes that languages represent the key to cultural harmony. Diane Alperstein writes of her love for Hebrew and her lost language of Yiddish. She sees that in her Jewish faith language and religious practice go hand in hand. Judit Rubenstein is an enthusiastic teacher of Hebrew and Jewish culture to young children. Rabbi Zalman Kastel shares his own background and his search to breach spiritual language barriers in all contexts. These narrators, many of whom are teachers, share their passion and zeal for their community language, and they offer some insight into how they go about their teaching. Saturday language community schools are shown to be a vital education instrument for inter-generational transmission of language, culture, and identity. Through language, the teachers show the importance of nurturing religious practises, reading of holy scriptures, prayer and chants in their heritage language in places of worship. In preserving language, the teachers are supporting identity and providing an active means to continue the language into the next generation. This chapter provides insight into the construction of religious identity and shows both religion and language as strong foundations of the human story. Language unites communities, supports intergenerational transmission and ensures continuity of identity.

Language for Communicative Oneness Swati Doshi Sydney Institute for Community Languages Education, IABBV Hindi School Westleigh, NSW, Australia

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

95

My family language is Gujarati and I am also fluent in Hindi as it was the language I learnt whilst growing up in a predominantly Hindi-­speaking state (Jharkhand). I am also well versed in English as it was the language in which I had to communicate during my school years. My Indian heritage, my upbringing and frequent migrations between various Indian states in my early life also enabled me to learn the basics of multiple Indian languages, such as Marathi, Kannada and Telugu. My love for the Hindi language was passed on to my daughter who also grew up learning the language in India, Singapore and here in Australia. At the IABBV Hindi School in Sydney (see the narrative by Mala Mehta, Chap. 5) my daughter studied Hindi as a subject for her end-of-school examinations. I began volunteering at the Hindi School as a teacher and in this role I could create love for the language in the next generation. I wanted to give children the opportunity to connect with their roots through language and through the community that the school represented. Volunteering also allowed me to remain engaged with the Indian community and stay connected to my own culture and traditions, outside India, in Australia. I had a background in teaching and I enjoyed reconnecting with it. Teaching my own language made me want to improve my teaching skills, so I undertook “Community Language Teaching” certificate courses at the University of Sydney to develop my professional skills. My continued involvement in the community and the school eventually led me to meet Robyn Moloney, an enthusiastic linguist and expert in language education. I was Robyn’s Hindi teacher for a short while. For this book, Robyn asked me to think about the relationships between my languages, my religion and my spirituality. Thinking about this interrelationship made me realise the importance of language in my life. My language not only gives me my identity, keeps me in touch with my culture and my ancestral roots but it is also the core of my religious and spiritual existence. India boasts more than 1200 dialects and 22 official languages. I consider myself very privileged to be born into the Indian culture. I am well versed in Hindi whilst being a part of the Gujarati speaking community. I understand Marathi, Bengali and Sanskrit languages to a certain extent. The question made me realise that when I pray or meditate, I do so in my first language, Gujarati. When I have to recite shlokas (verses) for

96 

R. Moloney

ritualistic prayers, I do this in Sanskrit. This is because religion and languages are inherently intertwined and cannot be separated. Although Hindi is considered to be the language that unites all Indians, I believe it is the Sanskrit shlokas, mantra, prayers and hymns which unite the large Hindu population of the country, because the prayers and hymns remain the same across the entire subcontinent and across every generation. For example, the Shloka for Lord Ganesha – वक्रतुंड महाकाय, सूर्यकोटि समप्रभा। निर्विघ्नम कुरूमेदेव, सर्वकार्येषु सर्वदा। (a plea to the god to protect us and remove obstacles from our lives) is said and used in the same way regardless of what state or community we may be in. It remains the same even in Australia. The Indians I meet here during festivals or celebrations continue to follow the age-old customs of performing pujas and rituals, and reciting the shlokas associated with rituals. This uniformity in religious practices contributes to strong and harmonious bonds within the members of the community. In Australia, to ensure that the next generation of Indians respect and participate in religious practices, people from a multitude of language communities have taken the initiative to establish schools, prayer groups and parent circles. These organized groups are attempting to teach heritage languages to young children so that they too can be connected to their roots, culture and religion through the common link that languages provide. I think this is a very good initiative to maintain social harmony. I firmly believe that when language is passed on from generation to generation, the like-mindedness and feeling of communicative oneness increases the trust factor, brings the individuals closer and helps to maintain societal security.

L anguage and Religious Practice in Marathi, Hindi and Sanskrit Milind Sathye University of Canberra Bruce, ACT, Australia

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

97

In my religious practice, the languages that I use or understand are Sanskrit, Marathi and Hindi. While less than one percent of people speak Sanskrit in India, Marathi is spoken by about seven percent and Hindi by about 41 percent of Indians. The Indian Constitution recognises 23 languages, and each of the states has its own dominant language. The linking language is Hindi at the national level. I am fluent in Marathi and Hindi but Sanskrit requires effort. Sanskrit is rarely used in communicating with family, friends, relatives or at community gatherings. It is used for religious practice and spirituality as the Hindu scriptures are in Sanskrit. However, it does feature in my everyday life since reciting the Sanskrit verses from ancient scriptures is a routine that a typical Hindu family follows. Many recite the scriptural verses of their choice when they are under the shower – purifying the body and the mind simultaneously – these are in Sanskrit and Marathi. In addition, immediately after my shower, during morning worship at the shrine in my home, I say a prayer in Hindi and in the evening in Sanskrit. Thus, I use all the three languages at different points in time, and that would be similar for many Hindus. The scriptures in Sanskrit provide me ethical and moral support to do everyday tasks at work or otherwise. It calms the mind as I approach the day with divine support. Work is considered as a form of worship by Hindus and we take as much care in doing work to the best of our ability as we would in service to the divine. In a customer service role, for example, we would try to go out of our way to help resolve the issue the customer is facing. Hindus are often considered to be very law-abiding citizens in any country of the world. This may come from religious prayers at home on a daily basis. I believe that words convey very specific meaning and it is only original language that captures the true essence of intended meaning. Using the original language helps me completely access the true meaning implied by the word and it greatly helps meditation. I believe a translated word can’t provide that experience. Like a sponge, the mind grasps the meaning of the word in the original language but the taste is lost when translated into another language. We could compare this to the difference between a natural rose in your garden and a rose made of synthetic material. Both may look the same but the essence, the soul, is missing.

98 

R. Moloney

One example is the Sanskrit word ‘murti’, translated by missionaries as ‘idol’. Consequently, Hindus were branded as idol or devil worshippers and hence condemned. For a Hindu, the Sanskrit word Murti implies manifestation of the divine in a form. For worship purposes, Hindus are free to worship whatever their choice – with form, without form or not worship at all. For a Hindu, the divine is an ‘in-dweller’. Murti worship is only to aid the understanding that the Divine permeates everything and by knowing oneself, one can be at one with it, without a savior or a go-between. A Hindu strives to achieve that state through devotional worship, rational thinking, focus on duty and other such ethical values. Realisation of oneness with the Divine is the aim of Hindu Dharma. When two people interact in the same language, communication can be seamless and nuances of the language are easily understood. I can crack jokes, for example, using peculiarities of language. A joke translated from one language to another rarely makes such an impact. Animated discussion takes place within the community group when the language of communication is the same. While the terms that one uses in the language would be readily understood by the community, those from outside the community may find it hard to understand. For example, the word ‘samadhi’ has a meaning that just can’t be captured by the word ‘trance’. Similarly, ‘dharma’ is not ‘religion’ and ‘brahman’ is not God. My languages and my religion shape my belonging to my community.

 ultilingualism, Spirituality, Religion, in Order M of Importance Varsha Daithankar Sydney Institute for Community Languages Education, IABBV Hindi School Westleigh, NSW, Australia I grew up in a town in India with a population that was diverse in languages, faiths and nationalities. I am fluent in Hindi, Marathi and English. I also understand Bangla, Gujarati, Konkani, Urdu, Awadhi and

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

99

other languages. I have lived for more than a decade in Australia as an Australian citizen with Indian roots, and I feel like a global citizen. My hometown had Defense Service institutions and the diversity of my beliefs about language and religion were nurtured through hometown contact with various faiths. I was introduced to the foundations of Hindu faith, religion and spirituality during my school and college years. Our windows to the world were newspapers, radio, cinema but predominantly, participation in diverse religious events. I memorised small verses from the Veda (वेद), Shlokas (श्लोक), Dohae (दोहे), the Bible and Shabad (शबद) simultaneously. We would attend संस्कार (sanskar) classes on Sunday and learn simple prayers. Thus, my belief about God was shaped through input from diverse stimuli. At present, I teach Hindi. My students never fail to surprise me by reciting the Shlok written below as a public speaking activity in the classroom. गुरु ब्रह्मा गुरु विष्णु गुरु देवो महेश्वर, गुरु साक्षात पर ब्रह्म, तस्मै श्री गुरुवे नमः. (I salute the Guru in you) The Shlok is written in Devanagari script and anyone who has learnt Sanskrit or Hindi can attempt to read it. I am committed to passing on the Hindi language and Indian culture to the next generation. In the decade since my family’s arrival, I have spent time thinking about my religious beliefs, languages, and my daily routine, and I have eventually understood that they are interwoven. I begin and end my day with Hindi or Sanskrit chanting with holy undertones. The sound has a calming effect on me, and the rituals give a discipline and focus to mind and body. In my classroom, some of the children mention that their parents chant bhajan, shabad, geet, lori and shlok to the children at home. I would like to work on empowering these children to be able sing, read and understand the meaning of these chants themselves. I learnt Hindi all through my student life and I love being multilingual. I am sure this will work for the next generation too. Children relate to stories (religious and otherwise), rituals and food, and I was no exception. So, I encourage my children here in Australia to visit the temple, gurudwara or church with equal enthusiasm. They close their eyes for a few seconds and pray while we walk past a church if there are no temples nearby.

100 

R. Moloney

Just as I did Bible study in Hindi in my growing years, so I would love all local Australian children to learn about shlokas and prayer in Hindi/ Sanskrit too, to experience a different perspective. Hinduism is huge and can absorb people of different faiths. I think it does not demand conversion, one god or one method of praying. Language can be used to teach and learn ethics and morality from sacred books, contrary to their use sometimes like a ticket of acceptance. If asked, I would rank language, spirituality and religion in descending order of importance. I believe that language is the key to all. If one has the linguistic ability to read and express thoughts about spiritual awakening, then the person also will have the ability to become what I call a ‘settled being’.

Sanskrit, Peace and Social Harmony Pandit Prakash Dhodari Nepalese Hindu Society of Australia Granville, NSW, Australia Nepal is an independent country in South East Asia crowned by Mount Everest, the tallest mountain on earth and the birthplace of Lord Buddha. Nepal is located between two neighbours, China on the north and India on the south, east and west. Nepali is Nepal’s official language based on Devanagari script. Devanagari is one of the major scripts used for Sanskrit literature. The word ‘Devanagari’ is derived from two Sanskrit words – ‘deva’ meaning ‘gods and goddesses’ and ‘nigari’ meaning ‘city’. Nepal is spiritually believed to be a land of the god and goddess. Sanskrit and Nepali are the commonly used languages for religious and spiritual practice in Nepal. The majority of the population is of Hindu faith. The culture is founded on Hinduism that is shaped by the four Vedas, Puranas, Bhagavad Gita, Ramayana, Mahabharata, Upanishads, Smritis and Shrutis. Nepal in 2007 was declared a secular country but in fact, the majority of the population in Nepal (81.3%) are following Hinduism. The religious/spiritual texts and books originated from ancient Nepal and are written in Sanskrit.

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

101

The festival of Guru Purnima (teacher’s day) celebrated in Nepal is dedicated to Veda Vyasa, a great saint who was born in Damauli in Nepal and wrote four Vedas. The place of teacher holds a higher status than of god in Hindu culture and in Nepal. We can see Vyasa’s cave in Damauli at the confluence of the Seti and Madi rivers. Veda Vyasa compiled the whole Vedas residing inside the cave. His greatest contribution to mankind lies in producing all the Vedic Knowledge in written form. Before he achieved this, Vedic Knowledge was not visible to anyone, only to the divine saints. Vyasa wrote the Vedas in Sanskrit language in order to allow people to understand the divine knowledge. Vedas are the oldest holy books in Hinduism and, we believe, the oldest and holiest ever made by mankind. It is believed that Vedas were written between 1500 and 1000 BC. They are the large body of vast knowledge, religious and spiritual teachings which encompass all aspects of life. The four Vedas are Rigveda (cosmology and deities), Samaveda (music, dance, and melodious chants), Yajurveda (rituals, mantras/ chants), and Atharvaveda (charms and magic spells). Having sound knowledge of Sanskrit language is helpful in changing one’s own life. There are many religious or spiritual dimensions to Nepali and Sanskrit language. These languages are taught in schools and there is Sanskrit University in Nepal for those interested in specialized study in Sanskrit. There are two historic classifications of Hindu texts: Shruti – that which is heard, and Smriti- that which is remembered. The Shruti refers to the body of most authoritative, ancient religious texts, believed to be eternal knowledge authored neither by human nor divine agent but transmitted by sages (rishis). The texts that appeared afterwards were called Smriti. Upanishads are a collection of Hindu texts which contain some of the central philosophical concepts of Hinduism. The Puranas are a vast genre of Hindu texts that encyclopaedically cover a wide range of topics, particularly legends and other traditional lore. The Bhagavad Gita is set in a narrative framework of a dialogue between Pandava, Prince Arjuna and his guide and charioteer Krishna, an avatar of Lord Vishnu. The epic, traditionally ascribed to the Maharishi Valmiki, narrates the life of Rama, a legendary prince of Ayodhya, a city in the kingdom of Kosala. Although I may use English language occasionally in my religious practice or spirituality, Sanskrit and Nepali languages are the two major

102 

R. Moloney

languages I use for religious practice. Sanskrit is an ancient language in which Vedas were written. Nepali language is my mother tongue as I was born in Nepal. I learnt Sanskrit from Bhagawat Sanyas Ashram, Kathmandu, Nepal and I completed a Shastri degree in Sanskrit from Mahendra Sanskrit University, Nepal. I have no difficulty reading, writing, understanding, and speaking Sanskrit and Nepali languages. Sanskrit also plays a significant role in helping me earn my livelihood. I deliver many Hindu ritual services, from birth to death. I also predict the future for people, based on astrological formula and I help people come out of their materialistic and worldly misery and pain through spiritual healing, including Graha Shanti (planetary pleasure) and stone therapy. Currently, I serve as founder of the Nepalese Hindu Society of Australia (NHSA). I help people conduct all the Hindu rituals for weddings, house warmings, birthday puja, Satyanarayan Puja, naming ceremony, funerals and so on for the Nepalese community in Australia, since 2011, in the capacity of head priest of NHSA. I am a member of the Australian Council of Hindu Clergy Inc. and I am also a religious and civil marriage celebrant. Knowing the language of Sanskrit has helped shape my sense of belonging to the community. I feel like I have become able to serve humanity through my knowledge of Sanskrit language. The knowledge of Sanskrit I have acquired helps me to live in perfect tune with the rules of nature, and stay bodily, mentally, emotionally and financially fit. Waking in the early morning before sunrise, offering water to the rising sun are a few of the secrets that the knowledge of Sanskrit has taught me, to keep my worldly life balanced and in tune with nature. This interrelationship between my daily life, religious/spiritual practice, and the Sanskrit language is indeed significant and meaningful for making my life complete, bringing divine blessings of inner peace and happiness to me. Recently, there is a trend in the community to use English language. The teaching and learning of Sanskrit language, these days, exists only in rare and limited institutions. The goal of teaching or learning a language connected to a spiritual context, however, is important to help humans live a happy and complete life through attainment of spiritual treasure, as well as fulfilment of basic materialistic needs at the same time.

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

103

In my Hindu community, the Sanskrit language teaches people to respect all humans as gods (aatma/ soul is divine), to see all creatures as equal (samadhi), to pray for happiness and peace in the universe (ॐ सर्वे भवन्तु सुखिनः सर्वे सन्तु निरामयाः । सर्वे भद्राणि पश्यन्तु मा कश्चिद्दुःखभाग्भवेत् । ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥) and so on. Sanskrit teaches people to respect all creatures, treat all humans with equality, live a life with consciousness, love, morality and with ethics. In this way, Sanskrit language contributes to social justice issues and/or to maintain social harmony not only within human community but within this planet.

 aising Tamil Saivite Children: From Sri Lanka R to Australia Ravi Anandarajah Tamil Community Language School Auburn, NSW, Australia I was born in Jaffna, the capital of a northern province of Sri Lanka. When my family lived in Sri Lanka, Tamil was always the language spoken in our home and we continue to practise the same here in Australia. From our childhood, we learnt from our parents how to follow our religion Saivam and the Tamil culture. Importantly, we attended various temples on Fridays and participated in special fasting such as Kethara Gowri Viratham (fasting with one meal for 21 days for goddess Kali), Navaratri (9 –3 days each for the goddess Durga, Lakshmi and Saraswati), and Kanda Shasti (a 6 day fast with fruits, milk and water for Lord Murugan in Sri Lanka). Based on lessons learnt from our parents, my wife and I took our young children to the temple every Friday and for all festival days like Thai Pongal, Sithirai Varsha Pirappu (it is called April Tamil Saiva New Year), Deepavali, Kantha Sasti, Sooran Phor and Thiruvembavai. Right now, as I am writing, our Tamil and Saiva New Year starts around 14 April with several days of holiday and special food. The day before the Tamil Saiva new year, we go to the temple to get special holy water, take

104 

R. Moloney

it home and put it on our heads and toes and then shower. It is the most important day celebrated by every Saiva and Hindu family. In 2009, due to the ethnic civil war my family had to leave Sri Lanka and immigrate to Australia. The long war pushed us out of our country, where our identities were under threat. When we left, there was so much that we missed, the many traditional temples and special celebrations, our family and friends. We felt alone here, as though we had lost everything. That is why we, and other Tamil Saivite families, struggle so hard to maintain our heritage here. Hindu has many different religious denominations within it. Saiva religion is one of the major Tamil religions that worships Lord Shiva. It is considered to be the oldest living religion in the world. Saiva promotes vegetarianism. Lord Shiva and Lord Shiva’s family are the first and foremost gods for Saiva followers. Shiva created Lord Murugan as his son from the third eye on Shiva’s forehead (the third eye which opened when Shiva was angry). Lord Murugan is the Tamil Saiva god. The temple service is central to our faith practice. We have many devotional hymns (called Thevaram, sung by 64 saints). When I do daily things, such as washing, I worship by offering Thevaram to God every morning and in my mind. I believe everything is due to God whether this be successes or challenges. Friday is a strictly vegetarian day when we visit the temple. We believe we do not have the right to kill any animal. We all have our lives given to us to live, including the animals. Saiva theology includes Shiva being the Creator, Preserver and Destroyer, and the Atman (self, soul) within oneself and every living being. Tamil is a classic language that has survived all the way to the modern world and is spoken by about 78 million people, mainly in South India, Sri Lanka, Singapore and in many other countries by migrant Tamils. For us, the Tamil language and Saivism cannot be separated. According to Saiva legend, Tamil or personification from Tamil Thai (mother Tamil) was created by Lord Shiva. Lord Murugan and the sage Agastiyar brought the language to the people. Agastiyar is known as the father of Tamil literature. Thus, a big objective for us is to teach Tamil, as we consider it to be a holy language. The words in our devotional hymns are very important texts and part of our life.

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

105

As soon as we arrived in Australia, we enrolled our three children in the Homebush Tamil Language School and Saiva School, even before we enrolled them in mainstream school. We took them to the temple regularly so they could remember their Tamil and Saiva heritage, enjoy our Tamil traditional customs and culture, and learn to live with their Tamil identity in multicultural Australia. Saivism teaches them to have an excellent moral character from childhood to adulthood. It also gives them a sense of belonging to community and to faith, both here and in Sri Lanka. We have built the Tamil schools and temples for future generations, and we also received a government grant to develop our language teaching in Australia. Our children arrived here at the ages of 12, 10, and 8 years of age. They are all involved in tertiary study now and going into professions. They all studied Tamil growing up, and we continue to have a rule to always speak Tamil in our home. We teach children Tamil for two hours at the school on Saturday, but the very best practice is to speak it at home. Children need time and motivation to speak; this is essential. We feel we have succeeded with our children. Our children have all studied Tamil as a subject for the Higher School Certificate and done very well. My wife is also well educated. She teaches at the Tamil school and produces new resources for teaching. I am a Principal of Auburn Tamil Aalayam (Saturday Tamil Community Language School). The most important thing for me is my community service. I have worked for the United Nations World Food Program and Save the Children UK. Service is a very important task in my religious faith, to work hard to serve humanity, and contribute to making the world better. I am currently the President of Lions Club of Burwood and Strathfield. I am completing 35 years in community volunteer service in Sri Lanka and Australia. Although I am an engineer, God has given me an opportunity to work in the community sector for my paid job and I take every step to provide the service to the people. We must act honestly and work to create things that are needed. Saiva stresses community work as a way of showing love and devotion. To serve the community is to copy the holy acts of saints. Lord Shiva created us to live and give service to others and in this way, we serve Lord Shiva. This is our task on earth, to complete our life and do the right thing. I followed this model from my parents.

106 

R. Moloney

My mother is a follower of the temple and involvement in service is an important part of her life. Now I am continuing. If we model, then children will follow. My children are all members of the temple and they will participate in service as adults. We have a doctrine of grace freely given and the impossibility of spiritual progress without love.

Islam  eginning Every Endeavour in the Name of God B (Bismillah hir Rahman nir Raheem) Abdullah Ibrahim New South Wales, Department of Education Parramatta, NSW, Australia I was born in a monolingual English-speaking family and despite the fact my mother had links with the Karen tribes of Myanmar, she was neither culturally or linguistically skilled in her mother’s heritage. Both my brother and I grew up in a nominally Protestant home, however like many from the sixties and seventies we had become agnostic by the time we left school. Fortuitously, from this monolingual background I find myself as an Indonesian language teacher today. I have a working ability in Arabic and can also get by in some European languages. Although I’m considered reasonably fluent in Indonesian, it is through the medium of Arabic and my faith in Islam that my Indonesian and Urdu are linked, due to language borrowing and the adoption of vast amounts of Arabic loan words. My daily practice whether in worship or worldly routines is, as in other Abrahamic based faiths, connected with litanies and small prayers before acting or doing things. This is because no act, however small, is meaningless. By remembering the Creator in our daily activities, we seek to make the mundane spiritual. Why the need to be continuously in remembrance? As the Quran states, ‘and remember as verily, remembrance (of God) proves beneficial for the believer’. The Arabic language is not only a liturgical language for Muslims around the world used in the five times

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

107

daily prayer, it is also a conduit because for a Muslim every single ‘huruf ’ (letter) has not only meaning in itself but can be seen as a light. Linguistics theory states that phonemes by themselves have no meaning, so letters such as A, B, C unless joined to vowels or other consonants have no meaning independently. In Arabic each letter has meaning (in Islamic science) and this meaning is only known by God. The reciting of these letters before beginning a reading of the Quran sets this connection between the reader and God. As a teacher of Indonesian one of the more interesting aspects of the language is its syncretic use of Arabic and the surprising nuances in which Arabic appears in the language. Clearly, as the islands of Indonesia adopted Islam, adherents to the new faith had to learn the rudiments of Arabic in order to perform the prayers. The previous Buddhist-Hindu kingdoms already had names for their sacred spaces but Arabic words replaced these sacred words and mantras. Mountains, rivers, fields and jungles acquired Arabic words. Some examples include: Fields = Medan (Arabic) (this is also a name for a city in Sumatra). Kudus (Arabic) = Holy (also a name for a city and area in Eastern Java). The word ‘sungai’ which means river is from an old antiquated Arabic word. Sembahyang = prayer is increasingly referred to in Indonesian with the Arabic word ‘salaat’. Australia’s Indigenous communities name their sacred spaces in order to feel connected to the earth. I’m interested in how movement across spaces brings spiritual familiarity and have studied the history of the ‘Afghan cameleers’ who trekked vast spaces of outback Australia. They left their own legacy by naming places using both Persian and Arabic words. Not many Australians are aware we have Mt. Mohamet in South Eastern Queensland, or that many small towns in Western NSW and the camel routes in Queensland and West Australia have names that are familiar to Muslims. Names such as the Bokhara River, a tributary of the Murray Darling Basin and Caboolture a town north of Brisbane city which in Persian means ‘small kabul’. Thirty-two years ago, I left Australia in search of spiritual enlightenment and realised that the signposts that led me to belief had been all around me in Australia. Interestingly, all these years later by becoming an Indonesian teacher I discovered how the Arabic language has shaped not

108 

R. Moloney

only the rites of Indonesian Muslim worship but also the boundaries of spiritual space within Indonesia. Now, in the present it is as if the circle is complete in that I have found in my own travels across this continent those same connections through place names and spaces. When I walk in the outback or visit small country towns, I get the feeling this earth has the legacy of Muslim influence and I am not a stranger here. As the Quran mentions, ‘Verily it is God who gives life to the dead. God records that which they have sent before them and their footprints.’

 he Goals of Teaching a Language Connected T to a Spiritual Context Teuku Chalidin Yacob Ashabul Kahfi Islamic Centre Wiley Park, NSW, Australia I am a teacher, and my teaching experience dates back almost 30 years, from my time in Indonesia. My formal qualifications are Bachelor and Master’s Degrees in Education, with a major in history and interests in Indonesian civil law and Islamic history. After experience with teaching in various schools across Indonesia, I decided to pursue a PhD in Islamic studies with research interests focusing on Australian and Indonesian relations. My thesis was titled, ‘The History of Indonesian Muslim migration to Australia’ and it researched the evidence and accounts of Indonesian Muslim migration predating Captain Cook’s arrival. I have always had a passion for the intercultural relationship between both nations. In 1993, my family and I moved to Australia from Indonesia and we found a community where there was a need for both Indonesian studies and teachers to provide this teaching. In 1998, I founded Ashabul Kahfi Language School to address this need for teaching the Indonesian language to school-aged children in the Indonesian community of the Canterbury-Bankstown area and beyond. I was fortunate to have

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

109

teaching experience from abroad to allow for the development of this education institution. The response from the community was favourable as it was one of the very first institutions at the time that managed to incorporate the studies of the Indonesian language with the spiritual lessons of Islam. I take pride in this work because of the constant communication and interchange with the students, especially when the children themselves show happiness in attending these classes. Beyond this, the product of our collective efforts at the school is best seen through the students who are successfully able to give presentations showing what they have learnt. In summary, I teach the Indonesian language within a Muslim context. I have four goals in teaching the Indonesian language in a religious context. These goals are firstly to serve the Indonesian community whose first language is not the language of the religion (Arabic), but Bahasa Indonesia; secondly it is to connect with the transcripts of Islamic textbooks; thirdly it is to engage the younger generation with the faith; and finally, it is to promote the language to facilitate business prospects with others. Firstly, when working with a community whose primary language is Indonesian (Bahasa), we must be able to address them in the language that they understand. This is the same for any community, where the goal is to foster deep religious connections to the Islamic faith. Connecting with students in their first language is more ideal as they can appreciate the teaching more and have a more holistic understanding of various other subjects, not only language. The textbooks we use in teaching are originally in Arabic, hence having the ability to translate these into the Indonesian language is also important to facilitate spiritual connection for Indonesian speakers. The young people engaged in these studies are generally born in Australia with English as their first language. Studying the Indonesian language through the textbooks widens the understanding of the Islamic teachings. We use these original books to retain the true meaning of the teachings and avoid incorrect interpretations. There are a few Indonesian words that have been borrowed from the Arabic language and used in religious and spiritual contexts in Islam such as “majlis” (religious congregations) or “kitab” (religious books) and it is worthwhile being mindful of these

110 

R. Moloney

connections. These connections have been traced back to the Arab traders who arrived in Indonesia in the thirteenth Century and made interactions with the local community there. To facilitate communication between the two communities, they would interchange terminology which made some words such as those above part of the mainstream Indonesian language. The next importance aspect of teaching the Indonesian language is to support the younger generation who grew up in Australia, but do not share the deep connection with the Indonesian language of their parents. Having to cater for their level of understanding is also a great concern for teachers like me. It is also important for parents to ensure that their children share some understanding of the language in order to gain the most benefit and understanding of their own faith. Furthermore, aside from the importance it has to the understanding of faith, understanding the Indonesian language also allows the younger generation to foster a sense of belonging in the wider Indonesian community. This allows them to feel a connection with Indonesian communities both in Australia and Indonesia alike. These children of the younger generation have a unique relationship with both their Indonesian and Australian identities and are grateful to be part of both. Finally, teaching and learning the Indonesian language has importance in the wider global context. As a teacher and Indonesian community leader, I understand that there is a large global population who uses either the Indonesian language or Malay. The population of Indonesia is large, and the population of the Indonesian diaspora is larger still. Indonesia being the closest neighbour to Australia means there is greater opportunity for bonds of both tourism and business to be established between the two countries. Having a fundamental understanding of the Indonesian language is beneficial to facilitate both bonds, and in developing respect between both nations. Having a confident grasp of the Indonesian language will make it easier for young Australian entrepreneurs who are willing to explore business prospects in Indonesia. Starting a business in Indonesia would require a strong understanding of religious aspects too, as Indonesia is known as the most populated Muslim country in the world. The teaching of the Indonesian language to youth in Australia is of immense importance. As mentioned above, the benefits impact not only

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

111

the individual, but the good of the community and the global community. I hope that in the future there is greater regard for the study of the Indonesian language, especially by the younger generation, so that they can preserve the relationship with the cultural and religious aspects of their mother tongue.

Language Diversity at the Imam Hasan Centre Zohra Aly Imam Hasan Centre Annangrove, NSW, Australia I was born in Kenya in the 1970s. My grandfather had migrated there from Kutch, a village in Gujurat, India to work on the railways. In our household, we spoke Kutchi, our Indian dialect and Urdu. I learnt English at school where Mum was a teacher in primary. I could recite the Arabic script of the Quran by the age of six. Mum also sent me for lessons to read Gujurati before we migrated to Pakistan. We stayed in Pakistan for 2 years, where I was taught to read and write Urdu in school. Most of my childhood was spent in Dubai, where Arabic and French were taught as a second languages in most expatriate schools. My lifelong love of languages, facilitated by migration, was cemented at an early age. My husband Abbas grew up in the Illawara district south of Sydney in the 1970s. His modest family home was a gathering place for Shi’a Muslims to commemorate special occasions. At the time, the predominant language for their sermons was Urdu, which Abbas did not understand. His parents had migrated from Tanzania and English was his first language. In 2004, Abbas fulfilled his dream of building a mosque in Sydney providing sermons and services in English to cater to Shi’a Muslim youth like our four children. Imam Hasan Centre was established in Annangrove in Sydney’s Hills district. We also run a Saturday school for 200 children aged five to 16 years of age, where we focus on the recitation of the Quran and teach Islamic Studies in English. Language can be a source of unity and tension simultaneously. While Imam Hasan Centre’s programs are predominantly in English, we also

112 

R. Moloney

host speakers who deliver lectures in Urdu. Older community members of Indian and Pakistani background prefer to hear hymns, lamentations and lectures in Urdu. For Shi’a Muslims from these ethnic backgrounds, Urdu is the language of choice, and there are pros and cons associated with this. Even children who speak little or no Urdu will still learn and recite hymns in Urdu as part of the tradition of recitation in our mosques. While cultural values are retained, and children may be able to converse to a certain level in Urdu, not all children understand Urdu at the linguistically complex level of religious lectures. These children gain to learn more from English speakers. Sheikhs who deliver lectures in English often use PowerPoint slides and other media, providing a totally different experience, more attuned to the needs of young Muslims. Arabic on the other hand, is recognised as the language of the Quran, and parents are very keen for their children to be able to recite the Quran. English language translations of the Quran are widely available, and the meanings of certain verses and chapters commonly recited in daily prayers and supplications are taught so that children have a working knowledge and understanding. Our community, being of South Asian heritage, may recite the Quran as fluently as native speakers yet the majority still don’t speak or understand Arabic. For me, the spiritual connection is greater when reciting the Quran and supplications in Arabic, even when I mostly understand the gist of my prayers. I am grateful my mother taught me to read Arabic at a young age and encouraged me to understand it. I also enjoy listening to lectures in Urdu because their style takes me back to a time when I sat close to the pulpit as a child, soaking in every word. And yet, English is the language I express myself in most fluently. It allows me to be a conduit between the traditional and the present. I feel privileged to have access to all these languages as they are the key to cultural harmony, balance and understanding.

J udaism, Religion, Hebrew and the Yiddish Language Diane Alperstein

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

113

Macquarie University Sydney, NSW, Australia I am part of the diaspora of Jewish people who live around the world outside modern Israel. The term diaspora comes from the Greek term ‘scattering’ or ‘dispersion.’ This is far different in meaning to the Hebrew word ‘galut’ (‫ ) ָגּלּות‬which translates as ‘exile,’ with its negative historical connotations dating back to the Babylonian exile of the Jews in 722 BCE. I have lived in Australia for over 40 years. I belong here but can never forget that being Jewish carries with it the weight of being a member of the wider Jewish diaspora and the importance of maintaining Jewish identity, faith and culture. This membership could not possibly have survived through the ages without one thing: the deep connection of the Jewish people to the Hebrew language. Hebrew binds us to our ancient Biblical history and is the gatekeeper to our religion, spiritual beliefs, laws and customs which we continue to teach our children today. Judaism is the only religion in the world to be called after a people, the Jews. It dates back nearly 4000 years. I’ve never questioned my Jewish identity but always felt an instantaneous belonging to every Jewish community I have lived in from South Africa, to Israel, Canada and Australia. Religious affiliation might fall under Orthodox, Conservative, Reform or other Jewish religious denominations but what is most comforting to me is our strong cultural and language commonalities. Very few Jewish people would be unfamiliar with the phrase “Shabbat Shalom,” the Hebrew greeting for welcoming the Sabbath. This unites us all, both religious and secular. It is the Hebrew language which provides the terminology for the familiar rituals of daily life from birth to death (Brit, circumcision; Bar and Bat Mitzvah, the coming-of-age ritual for boys and girls; marriage under the chuppah, canopy) as well as observance of the customs of the Sabbath, the High Holidays, both Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), and Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement). This includes a stream of celebratory holidays and festivals, including Pesach (Passover), Purim, Shavuot, Sukkot and Hannukah. These celebrations and religious observances engender a spirituality which is inseparable from the language

114 

R. Moloney

associated with them. I cannot imagine life without this stimulating Jewish atmosphere. Even as a young child, in my imagination, the ancient Biblical world seemed to lie just a stone’s throw away. With one tug of a stage rope, the heavy curtains of this mystical world would fall away and allow me to enter this world. Exposure to the stories, songs and prayers of the Jewish Bible began at home and continued at Cheder (weekly Hebrew school) as my sister, brother and I grew older. Through a combined understanding of Hebrew and English the poetry of the Bible came alive. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and earth.” (Bereshit bara Elohim et hashamayim ve’et ha’aretz) (‫אשׁית בָ ָּרא אֱֹלהִ ים‬ ִ ‫בְ ֵּר‬ ‫)אֵ ת הַ שָ ּׁמַ יִ ם וְ אֵ ת הָ אָ ֶרץ‬. As second generation Jewish South Africans, my parents placed great store on Jewish and Hebrew learning. Like most Jewish children, we were expected to learn formal Hebrew before Bar Mitzvah or Bat Mitzvah age. This required private Hebrew lessons in our case, as learning at Cheder was never considered enough. At the ages of 6 and 8 years old, my sister and I would sit prisoner in the stuffy kitchen of our Israeli Hebrew teacher, Gilda. Gilda would give us one boiled sweet each from a glass jar as a reward after our grueling weekly ordeal. We chanted endless Hebrew conjugations and translated incomprehensible Hebrew children’s newspapers which left black carbon stains on our fingers, but no trace of conversational Hebrew. In hindsight, it was worth the discomfort because when I studied Hebrew at university and later went to live in Israel, my foundation in reading and writing Hebrew was dependably solid. My spoken Hebrew, however, continues to be lamentable to this day. Yiddish was the other Jewish language I grew up with in my home. This was the language of both heartbreak and joy which my grandparents’ generation brought with them when they immigrated from Lithuania to South Africa in the early twentieth century. Yiddish was largely the language of the Ashkenazi Jews of central and Eastern European, a mix of German vernacular, Hebrew, Aramaic and some Slavic languages, including the Romance languages. ‘Yiddish’ means ‘Jewish’ and is written in Hebrew text. Referred to as the ‘mamaloshen’ (‘mother tongue’), it spread across the westernised world wherever Jewish immigrants settled, in countries such as England, the United States and South Africa. It became

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

115

a familiar language in Israel besides Hebrew, favoured amongst Jewish religious groups. Yiddish culture coloured my childhood with its exuberance of literature, music and theatre. Yiddish was a part of everyday life besides English, while Hebrew was largely elevated to a liturgical and spiritual level reserved for holy prayer. Rich aromas of Eastern European food wafted out of my grandmother’s kitchen. Challah, kichel, kneidlach, latkes and hamantaschen. The celebratory nature of these traditional Ashkenazi foods continues to ensure their place at the heart of religious holidays and festivals today. When I think of the waves of Jewish immigration around the world in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, I can understand the importance of Yiddish as a buffer against the strange and often dangerous world these people were entering. It was the Yiddish language which acted as armour to shield their Jewish identity, spirituality and way of life. A non-stop stream of Yiddish flew energetically between my mother, her mother, her sister, brothers, uncles, aunts and cousins. They were virtuosos in their creative use of the colourful idiomatic expressions and irreverent humour which characterises the Yiddish vernacular. I can still hear my grandmother saying loudly to her sister, “Vos hakst du mir in kop?” (What are you talking my head off for?). Then receiving the quick, unphased response, “Neshomeleh, nito farvos!” (Darling, you’re welcome!). As children, we could follow some of the dialogue but were largely excluded from this private world of theirs. It was not seen as relevant for us, the ‘kinderlach’, (a diminutive, affectionate term for children), to learn. Instead, they believed we were part of a new progressive world and must only look to the future. The loss of Yiddish tugs at my heartstrings because my lack of this important language of my forebearers is a missing part of my Jewish identity. I feel my inability to speak the language, despite my knowledge of Hebrew, detracts from the continuity of my family history. Sadly, I will not be passing on this rich Yiddish language to my children with all it represents. This is especially poignant as the Jewish world witnesses the rapid disappearance of the Yiddish language due to an aging Jewish

116 

R. Moloney

population. (It still flourishes in small pockets of Jewish religious groups and in Israel, with ongoing efforts at maintaining the language’s survival). Perhaps, for me, more than anything, the Hebrew language is most powerful as a visual representation of Judaism with its bold blocks of lettering originating from the Aramaic and earlier Phoenician alphabet. This script, written from right to left, travels back to ancient biblical Hebrew and beyond into the deeper spiritual world of Jewish prayer and learning of the Tanakh, the Jewish Bible and its teachings. It returns in the revitalization of modern Hebrew today, a vibrant, continuously evolving language used for everyday and religious purposes in Israel and around the world. Hebrew is the bridge which spans the entirety of Judaism as it moves timelessly into the future.

Teaching Hebrew in Primary School Judit Rubenstein Board of Jewish Education Bondi Beach, NSW, Australia Shalom! My name is Judit Rubinstein and I work for the Board of Jewish Education as a Hebrew teacher in primary public schools. The Modern Hebrew that I am teaching is based on the ancient Hebrew used in the Bible but was renewed by Eliezer Ben Yehuda early last century. It is currently the official language in the state of Israel. The Kabalistic people (mystical section of Judaism) believe that some Hebrew words and letters have a deep spiritual meaning and power. According to one legend some Hebrew words can even give life to inanimate objects such as in “The Legend of the Golem of Prague.” In my teaching, I include a lot of active fun learning approaches. My students play and sing, they dress up for the Passover story, and they play with letter stencils to create big signs. They play with letter puzzles, they use puppets and masks, use toys to learn vocabulary, and, whenever possible, eat! I think that memorable classes are those where there is knowledge exchange and collaboration between students and teachers. I try to connect with the students so they will be happy to see me and look

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

117

forward to the Hebrew class. I want them to be able to see in me a leadership model and for this I must understand their reality and needs. To capture their attention and create a bond, I sometimes tell them a short anecdote about my past experience with the Hebrew language or sing a song to them. For them to feel important and valued, I sometimes ask them to teach me something they know. To reward the effort for a good job, at the end of the session I sometimes show students a short video that is related to the topic I am teaching. To develop students’ attention and to improve their communication and concentration, I try to create expectations and change class routines by introducing art and craft activities, music and movement and educational games. My students often dress up, acting out roles in history, and learning about Passover in the class. When I am teaching Hebrew as an additional language, this involves learning a new alphabet and its sounds, the acquisition of vocabulary and the formation of words. We also include the culture, development and evolution of the language and the history of the Jewish people. Many Jewish religious customs revolve around the family and community. One example is the Sabbath meal, when families join together to welcome in the special day and pray from the “Siddur” a compendium of prayers in Hebrew. Another example is the Passover night in which we commemorate the passage from slavery to freedom by reading from the “Haggadah,” so the children become aware of that moment in history. The “Haggadah” is a collection of stories and songs in Hebrew and Aramaic focusing on Passover subjects. Children learn to act out a number of common rituals, such as the blessing for the lighting of candles, when Shabbat starts. The definitive origin of the term “Hebrew,” which is “Ivrit,” remains uncertain. The Biblical term “Ivri” meaning “to traverse” or “to pass over.” This becomes “Hebrew” in English from the ancient Greek Ἑβραῖος and the Latin “Hebraeus”. The first person to be called “a Hebrew” was Avraham in the Hebrew Bible, (Genesis 14:13) and the name refers to his descendants the Hebrews, “Ivrim”. According to rabbis the word is a reference to the fact that Avraham came from the “other side of the river” (M’Ever la naar) and was not a native Canaanite, therefore Hebrew would also be a word

118 

R. Moloney

referring to an “immigrant,” which Avraham was, as he came from beyond the River Euphrates. Rabbi Yehuda taught that the word “ever” means “opposite side.” Abraham believed in one G-d in a world of idolatry therefore “Hebrew” means the one that “is opposed” and different from all others. Another origin of the word “Hebrew” is thought to come from the proper name “Eber,” the great-grandson of Shem and an ancestor of Abraham. Today we use the root letters “ever,” ‫ עבר‬to mean “crossing over”, “passing through” or “traversing”. We use the word when moving houses, going through a difficult time, crossing the road or over a river, transgressing laws, and so on. It is estimated that the chronology of the Hebrew Bible covers more than 1500 years, from approximately 2000 B.C. to 400 B.C. The exact dates of its written composition are unknown. Traditionally, Jews dated the earliest biblical writings to the time of Moses, (circa 1500–1200 B.C.E). In Biblical times writing was done in surfaces such as stone, wood, pottery, metal, plaster and clay tablets engraved with sharp instruments. However, to adapt writing to a scroll format, scribes used papyrus, leather and parchments made out of skins of animals. The Dead Sea Scrolls found in the Qumran caves in the Judean Desert were written on vellum and papyrus. They are the only older known Torah passages to have been found. The Jewish Talmud, a code of traditional laws, explicitly required “The Torah” (Law) to be copied on animal skins. Reading from the Hebrew Holy Bible is an important part of Jewish liturgical services. Some scrolls are read, in full, on certain Jewish holidays; the events of the Israelite exodus from Egypt and Mount Sinai are commemorated in the Jewish festivals of Passover and Sukkot, and the giving of the Torah in the celebration of Shavuot. Readings from the Torah, which are divided into 54 weekly portions, are the centerpiece of the Shabbat morning service. Rabbis and teachers use biblical passages to express a message or to give a life lesson. A twenty-four-hour total fast day, with its origins in Leviticus 2, is “Yom Kippur”, the Day of Atonement. Jewish worshippers spend the entire day in prayer and the Book of Jonah is read in the Synagogues as it is connected with repentance and mercy.

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

119

A lot of the Jewish tradition is based on passages of the Torah. One example is the placing of a “Mezuzah”, a small piece of parchment rolled inside a case and attached to the right side of the doorway of a home, a sign of faith. It contains a line from Deuteronomy: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord is one.” Some Jews take biblical passages concepts literally and others prefers to apply the language in a figurative way. The Hebrew alphabet is called the “aleph-bet” after the first two letters, aleph ‫ א‬and bet ‫ּב‬. It consists only of consonants. It has 22 letters, five of which use different forms at the end of a word. Because Hebrew uses a Semitic abjad (Phoenician script using consonants and symbols instead of vowels), a system of dashes and dots is used to represent the five vowel sounds ‘ah’, ‘eh’, ‘ee’, ‘oh’, and ‘oo’ to make reading easier. (This was introduced between the middle and end of the first millennium). These symbols are located above or below the consonants. Hebrew letters also have numerical values, deep spiritual meaning and connections to Bible stories and concepts. The letter “Aleph” (‫ )א‬for example, is the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet and signifies the number one. It symbolizes the beginning of everything and the one eternal G-d. The letter “Chet” (‫ )ח‬is the eighth letter of the Hebrew alphabet. The word “Chaim” meaning “life” (‫ )חיים‬starts with this letter. It represents a new creation connecting the number to a biblical story when eight people were saved from the Flood (Noah, his wife, his three sons, and their wives). They represented a new beginning for humanity after the world was destroyed. Hebrew survived into the medieval period as the language of Jewish liturgy, rabbinic literature, intra-Jewish commerce and poetry. In 1517, Israel was absorbed into the Ottoman Empire remaining under the rule of the Turks until World War l when they were handed over to the British to govern the area (1920–1948) in what became known as Palestine (modern-day Israel, Palestine and Jordan). In between these events Eliezer Perlman, a Lithuanian Jewish historian, was consumed with the idea of embracing Hebrew without religion. In 1881, he immigrated to Jerusalem with his wife and changed his name by officially adopting the Hebrew pseudonym Ben-Yehuda. In time, he resurrected the Hebrew language by developing a vocabulary for Modern Hebrew. He incorporated words from the ancient Hebrew and created new words out of its roots to use in

120 

R. Moloney

everyday life for objects as well as for journalism, science and literature. He wrote the first Modern Hebrew dictionary. As he was fluent in many languages, e used them to fuse with Biblical Hebrew. His attempts to have Hebrew replace other languages as the official one was neither easy nor quick. At that time in Israel, Sephardic Jews (from Bulgaria, Turkey and North Africa) spoke Ladino (a Judeo-Spanish language), or Arabic and Ashkenazi Jews (Russia and Eastern Europe) spoke Yiddish (a Judeo-­ German language). They were different Jewish communities who didn’t have anything in common except religion and they resisted relinquishing their languages. Ben Yehuda’s first son was exposed exclusively to Hebrew at home. He was the first modern Hebrew-speaking child but consequently, he could not form friendships with other children, as no other children spoke Hebrew fluently. Ben Yehuda tried to create a Hebrew-speaking community, but in 20 years of work and campaigns, he was able to convince only ten other families to become Hebrew-only homes. The ultra-Orthodox religious Jews excommunicated him because using Hebrew as a spoken language in everyday life was considered as heresy. The Ottoman Turkish authorities didn’t make his life easy either. Bans, arrests and lawsuits affected his family livelihood and tuberculosis and other diseases claimed the life of his first wife, five of his children and ultimately his own life. Ben Yehuda managed to gain the support of some nationalist educators who started teaching Hebrew in schools to new immigrants from different countries. He felt that a common language would unify the country and the best way was through children. To reach adults he edited Hebrew newspapers with explanations. It was a gradual process. In 1922, Hebrew became one of the official languages of the British Mandate together with Arabic and English, one month before Ben Yehuda’s death. At his funeral, 30,000 Jews and Arabs followed the procession together with ultra-Orthodox Jews. His second wife continued his life-long work. Today Hebrew is a modern and dynamic language spoken by the citizens of Israel and many Jews around the world. It is also studied by students of Judaism, by archaeologists and linguists and by theologians in

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

121

Christian seminaries. Ben Yehuda’s house is now a conference center and guesthouse run by the German peace organization which organizes workshops, seminars and “Ulpanim” (basic Hebrew learning programs for adult immigrants). With the rise of Nazism and the impact of the refugees from Europe into Australia, (both immediately before and after World War II), Sydney’s Jewish life was diversified and strengthened. The community developed a web of organizations. Currently those (whose funds come from donations) subsidize programs that support the Hebrew language among other services. The Board of Jewish Education attends to the Hebrew educational needs of public school students. The Universities of Sydney and Monash University in Melbourne have departments for Modern and Classical Hebrew. The Melton Education Program offers programs to adults linked to the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. There are a few Jewish day schools in Australia’s main cities in which Hebrew is considered a very important subject. The current main Jewish streams are Orthodox (Modern and ultra-Orthodox), Conservative and Reform. It is a heterogeneous group, like Jewish identity. The need for Hebrew learning however is undisputed and a common denominator.

Breaching Spiritual Language Barriers Zalman Kastel Together for Humanity Foundation Mascot, NSW, Australia “It’s shame, miss,” said the 10 year old cheeky Aboriginal boy to the deputy principal of his school, located an hour from Darwin. When he first introduced himself to me and my Together For Humanity interfaith learning team he gave us a false name for himself, then added, “just gamin”, which in local slang meant that he was playing with me. For me, his name became, “just gamin”. As part of the course we were delivering, we led a game that illustrated inter-dependence. This Aboriginal boy was very generous in the game,

122 

R. Moloney

sharing and giving away most of what he had. The deputy principal, a non-Aboriginal recently arrived from a faraway big city, praised him. The minute she did that, he put his hand over his face. She asked the boy why? He told her it was “shame!” She responded that he had nothing to be ashamed of. She was right, about the English word ‘shame’. The next day our team of a Muslim, Christian and a Jew were joined by an Aboriginal elder, Aunty Ellen Gaykamangu. The elder explained to the deputy principal and the students that, for her people, the word “shame” was actually about respect and being humble. The boy did not want to be put above his peers; for him it was important to behave in a way that everyone is shown the same amount of respect. The road to respect for the boy was through an Indigenous spiritual tradition that no doubt has a word for it in his own Aboriginal language. However, Australia is a land dominated by the English language. So, the original idea is now carried by an English word which does not capture its original flavour and spirit. As a Jewish boy growing up in New York, I spoke two languages, English and Yiddish. While some elements of Jewish spirituality were expressed through Yiddish words we used, a lot of the sacred texts were in Hebrew, which I did not fully understand at the time. There was also a disconnect between our daily conversation which we held in English and religious guidance which was often given in Yiddish. This sometimes diminished its relevance. Even the English some of our teachers spoke had such heavy Yiddish and Eastern European accents, they might as well have been speaking a different language. Things only really clicked for me when I had an American born teacher who I felt I could relate to. Spiritual language barriers are important because every language carries its own energy. If our spiritual traditions have been formed in a different language, there can be an element of alienation between us and the different vibes that pull us in different directions. I was delighted to find that this tension is alluded to in my tradition, in this week’s Torah reading. At the end of Moses’ life, he explained the Torah (1). This is interpreted to mean that he explained the Torah in

4  Introduction: Living Faiths Section 2: Hinduism, Islam, Judaism 

123

seventy languages (2). It has been suggested that this was for the benefit of the non-Hebrew speaking Israelites in the desert (3). However, another approach is that in Moses’ multi-lingual expounding of the Torah he was laying the groundwork for future exiles among different language groups and their “life force”, or spirit. In some mystical way, Moses was breaching the spiritual language barrier to enable Jewish exiles to live their spirituality wherever they find themselves (4). With the support of the Together For Humanity team, Aunty Ellen did the same thing for young “just gamin”. 1. Deuteronomy 1:5. 2. Midrash Tanchuma Devarim, 2. 3. Levush Haorah on Deuteronomy 1:5. 4. Kedushas Levi, Parshas Devarim, Ohr Hachayim edition, p. 325.

5 The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit Robyn Moloney

Introduction Robyn Moloney School of Education Macquarie University Sydney, NSW, Australia This chapter features six narratives which we have grouped under a loose relationship to leadership in teaching and learning. We recognize that many of the narratives in the preceding chapters have also involved focus on teaching and learning. These chapters however portray the depth and diversity of the passion for teaching, and readers will construct their own links across the very different contexts represented here. To teach is to change lives. Teaching is always about much more than the syllabus content transmitted. Language teaching is about much more R. Moloney (*) School of Education, Macquarie University, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_5

125

126 

R. Moloney

than vocabulary and grammar. Language involves the whole self of both the teacher and the learner. It is engaging with the expression of a way of life, a spirit, a place, a history, an ancestor, a friend. The teacher has the privilege of seeing this process change a student’s life. It is understood today that teachers bring their whole life and their spirituality to this complex work. Parker Palmer, an American educator with both a religious and educational background, was one of the first teacher educators to open new understandings of education as a spiritual journey and of the inner lives of teachers (see also Chap. 16). Palmer has written that good teaching comes not from technique or knowledge but from the identity and integrity of the teacher. Palmer made a strong analogy between teaching and hospitality, and underlined that hospitality benefits the host even more than the guest. In this reciprocity we participate “in the endless reweaving of a social fabric on which all can depend— thus the gift of sustenance for the guest becomes a gift of hope for the host” (Palmer, 2017). There are many instances in this volume of teachers declaring themselves to be the learners and acknowledging their ongoing debt to their students. The narrators in this chapter are teaching from a desire to bring good things to their learners: belonging, spirituality, joy, pride, affirmation, leadership, connectedness with family and history, and knowledge of their origins. Jianlian Liang reflects on children’s experience of praying in Chinese, a language which becomes close to the heart, in her teaching in a Christian Bilingual school. Mala Mehta is a school builder, in her mission to teach Hindi, and to keep language and culture alive through beliefs and traditions. Melanie Brown’s wonderful story is a product of her engagement with not only learning and teaching Arabic but with her love of supporting young people. Mojgan Mokhatebi Ardakani and Zainab Rivzi collaborate to tell the personal story of establishing an English language Islamic Studies school. Trisha Watts offers us a moving experience at the Taizé community in France as the key to her career in teaching communities to develop spirituality and meditation through singing in different languages. John Harris tells the story of the Nyoongar Bible translation and the deep impact this has had on teaching and learning for Nyoongar leaders.

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

127

This chapter highlights the act of teaching Language and Spirit as a significant contribution to a coherent and dynamic Australian society. The contributors together map the teacher compassion, humility and drive which produce creative leadership in an education which actively supports language rights and cultural and faith expression.

 raying in Chinese: Teaching in a Bilingual P Christian School Jianlian Liang International Chinese School Sydney, NSW, Australia My name is Jianlian. I left China about 20 years ago, and I gained my teaching degree and Masters of Education degree in Auckland, New Zealand. I completed my PhD study in 2017 through Macquarie University in Sydney, Australia. My teaching experience has been in four different countries: China, New Zealand, America and now in Australia, and I have taught students from age 3 to 18  years old. Currently I work at a newly established Primary Bilingual Christian School in Sydney where I teach and oversee the Chinese program. The term Bilingual Education refers to the teaching of school subjects in both the target language (Chinese) and mainstream language (English). For my PhD thesis I wrote an auto-ethnography, a personal narrative of my own past. The auto-ethnography offered some snapshots of my spiritual and cultural journey and my educational aspirations. It helped me investigate my educational and spiritual growth through learning and using different languages. This really helped me identify the spiritual and cultural values which “drive” my teaching commitment and shape my attitudes and practice today. Teaching is a demanding and yet very rewarding profession. It is so exciting to see what children can do. I feel I am able to impact not only the young children’s lives but also their parents’ lives, in my current

128 

R. Moloney

setting. The school is a Christian faith-based school, and it uses a 50/50 immersion model, that is, half the children’s learning is done in Chinese, half in English. I am passionate about bilingual education. I find that working at this bilingual Christian school is an ideal setting for both my faith and my love of language. The combination of Christian faith, bilingual education, language teaching and the aim for children’s holistic development motivates me to dedicate myself in this unique setting. I believe as a teacher and coordinator at this school I have had some positive influence at the school and in the children’s lives. My typical day with the children starts with a devotion in Chinese. We learn the word of God from the Bible through stories, singing or memorising Bible verses in Chinese, then we pray for the children and families in simple Chinese, placing the language close to the children’s heart and spirituality. Then we focus on learning new words through different activities and other school subjects like maths, health, history, geography. These subjects can also be related to God’s love for the world. Songs and stories have always played a major role in my classroom practice, particularly in 2020 with lots of on-line learning time. The kindergarten students learned about 400 Chinese words in the year. More than 90% of those students do not speak any Chinese at home. In 2021, just in Term 1, the kindergarten students have learnt 70 Chinese sight words. Most of the parents were learning the sight words along with their children and were amazed by their children’s achievement. This is a very profound and satisfying way to spend time with children. We aim to develop the children’s language development, spiritual development and academic excellence together. In my experience, intercultural understanding, language proficiency and spiritual maturity are all involved in this teaching and learning. Jesus Christ asks us to serve one another humbly in love, to be his hands and feet in the world. I believe that I am God’s hands and feet in the classroom through my everyday actions, attitudes, and interactions with the children. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:14) Jesus shows great love and care to little children. I try to follow His example through daily communication with God by reading the Bible and praying and I have found that challenges have helped me to become a more effective teacher.

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

129

Our God is a relational God and we are relational beings, created in His image. He is deeply and actively involved with all people and the world He created. Language is central to all relationships. God created all the languages, and certainly hears prayers in different languages! He knows which language lies close to each individual’s heart and soul. At our school, students come from different cultural backgrounds and parents send their children to our school for different purposes. For the Chinese heritage students, the parents want them to find their cultural values and identity through language. For the non-Chinese background students, the parents want them to benefit from the advantages of becoming bilingual. For the Christian parents, they are excited for their children to be immersed in both the Christian and bilingual environment. For whatever reasons, I believe that our school is an important place for children’s academic and bilingual development and spiritual experience.

 ducating to Keep Language and Culture Alive E Through Beliefs and Traditions Mala Mehta OAM IABBV Hindi School Westleigh, NSW, Australia In India we are fortunate in that we grow up multilingual. Along with a knowledge of English, French, Punjabi and Hindi I grew up with an understanding of some of the other Indian languages which are based on Hindi. The passion for language is strong in my generation, and I see us as pioneers with passion, which will only transfer to the next generation living in Australia, if we teach them. Keeping language and culture alive has been important for most immigrants to Australia. Many communities have a common history of parents and community members struggling to establish small schools to pass on their language and culture to the next generation. When we started the Hindi school Sunday classes with 35 students at Thornleigh West Public School in Sydney’s northwest, we struggled to get the interest

130 

R. Moloney

of the local Indian community. Parents felt that learning Hindi in Australia would not be advantageous for their children. I believe strongly in the value of learning languages to unlock understanding of people and develop respect for each other’s culture and sensitivities. This enables you to forge stronger strategic relationships that are based on greater understanding and mutual respect. Language also gives students a sense of identity. Even a basic knowledge of Hindi will vastly augment the “feel” of India for any executive involved with marketing and advertising, media programming and exchanges, and sports promotion and administration. Recently we have seen cricket legend Brett Lee’s amusing part-Hindi song “Main Tumhara Hoon” (You’re the one for me). Knowledge of language allows you to communicate with people today in India in every walk of life, from the local markets to the global world of Bollywood cinema. After my marriage, I moved to Bengal and learnt Bengali, a beautiful language which I found easy to acquire. My husband studied Bengali for work purposes as he needed it to deal with the local people. To establish a business, you need to understand how a local person thinks, and you cannot understand people unless you know their language. As Nelson Mandela said “If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his own language, that goes to his heart.” For me, the journey began when in February 1983, as a family of 4, we migrated to Australia. I fell in love with the country but at the same time also resolved to raise my children to understand and appreciate their country of origin. In order for my children to learn their language, I began teaching them Hindi at home. In June 1987 with a group of mothers and teachers, I established the Indo-Aust Bal Bharathi Vidyalaya Hindi School (IABBV). It is the first structured Hindi language institution in Sydney, a non-profit organisation run entirely by volunteers, with support from the New South Wales Department of Education Community Languages Schools Program. The support given by my family over the years has been invaluable in allowing me to take up this quest. Born a Hindu, I am ‘spiritual’ rather than believing in a set of dogmatic rites and rituals. My father was a Brigadier in the Indian army and my mother kept the family together. We were brought up with the

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

131

principles of Arya Samaj. Arya Samaj is a monotheistic Indian Hindu reform movement that promotes values and practices based on the infallible authority of the Vedas. Members of the Arya Samaj believe in one God and reject the worship of idols. We visited the Hanuman temple every Tuesday and did simple family poojas at home during festivals. I prefer to pray in silence and meditate whether it is at home or in a temple, church or any place of worship. I am of the belief that one should always be ready to accept truth and to renounce untruth. For me, the Hindu philosophy is more of a way of life than a religious creed. I also have deep understanding of the Roman Catholic religion as I did most of my schooling in Catholic schools. India is a diverse country, so we grew up celebrating many different festivals. But interpretation of religion can be, and has been, a source of serious strife. I strongly believe in keeping overt religion out of the classroom space and letting parents or religious authorities teach this. However, when we teach language, we also touch upon culture and traditional religious beliefs and their significance. This may be through reading texts about festivals, by exchanging special greetings and wishes on festival days, and through organising special events to celebrate them. As an extension of my commitment to education, in 2011 I helped devise an innovative educational program for New South Wales Education called “India Calling”, part of a broader program “Expanding Horizons with Asia”. The program, which aimed to incorporate a Hindi language and cultural program into the curriculum, developed an understanding of India and provided an insight into the Hindi language. It reached a total of 520 primary school students across New South Wales. My hope is that the future of Community Languages in NSW will include greater collaboration between teachers, more cross-curricular programs and increasing interaction with mainstream Australian society.

A Teaching and Learning Life with Arabic Melanie Brown New South Wales, Department of Education Parramatta, NSW, Australia

132 

R. Moloney

I never considered studying languages at school. It just wasn’t my thing. My first taste of learning a foreign language came to me while serving in the Australian Army. My job, which was chosen for me by the army, required me to learn languages. I had no choice in the matter, but what luck I was in! I discovered that I was a quick learner and enjoyed the experience immensely. One of the languages I learned was Tetum, the lingua franca of East Timor. I loved the windows opened to me through understanding language once I was deployed in the country. Being able to communicate with locals altered my view of myself as a soldier serving in someone else’s country. It offered me insights into the hearts and minds of locals, and it showed me how to be more humble. Eventually, I transferred to the Army Reserve so I could study languages at university full-time. I chose to major in Arabic as I felt it would come into its own some day. After September 11 2001 I was encouraged by my Reserve unit to work hard as my knowledge of Arabic would become an asset to Australia’s military intentions. Along with Arabic, I researched Islam and travelled to the Middle East to practice Arabic language skills. I eventually converted to Islam. I am someone who leans heavily on belief and found that Islam was something tangible which I could grasp. From this point on, the focus of my study of Arabic became religious rather than academic: I wanted to be able to read the Islamic scriptures in their original language. I never in fact used Arabic while serving. I resigned from the army and switched my major to Indonesian as I found the Arabic teaching at the institution where I studied was below-par. Learning Indonesian propelled me along a new path. I completed a postgraduate teaching degree specialising in teaching ESL English and Indonesian (both specialisation courses highly adaptable to any language). After graduation, I pursued a career in teaching language. After some personal set-backs and traumas, I needed to go somewhere new and it was not long until I landed a job in the United Arab Emirates. Sadly, I hated it – long story! The long lonely summer holidays arrived and by chance (knowing a few people including one of the UAE ruling family members) I was invited to teach in Yemen over the summer holidays. It was a transformational experience and I stayed for 10 years.

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

133

During the first few years in the country, I enrolled in intensive Arabic tuition and studied Islamic theology at University. I had a five-year plan and intended to come back to Australia and present a feminine voice to the Islamic conversation. I chose Islam largely due to the honour and respect with which the scriptures held women and the abundance of social justice within its scriptures. For this reason, I tired of the toxically patriarchal way in which Islam was practiced in most of the world. I only studied for 2 years because the Arab Spring had started up, from 2010, and both the Universities in which I studied closed for security reasons. Many may ask, why didn’t I leave at that point? The Arab Spring turned deadly and Westerners were regularly accused of being spies or, even worse, journalists. I felt the need, more than ever, to stay and bear witness. I wrote extensively about daily life during the uprising, the bombing of my house by the government and the subsequent political quagmire which led to the Saudi-led war on Yemen. This continues to the time of writing, some 6 years later. I became an undocumented immigrant. My visa options looked more like slavery and my passport expired, but I held tight and had the good fortune to be head-hunted. I was offered a job managing the English Department of an International Languages College in the capital, Sana’a. I worked beside Yemeni teachers and experienced a range of work ethics. I had to learn how to manage in a more Yemeni-friendly way or else I would fail my mission. It was a dance between being flexible while staying firm. I had to gain respect by being an exemplary Muslim, by living as a Yemeni woman amongst the people, by doing my best always to use Arabic as my first choice of communicating, and by never raising my voice at a Yemeni employee. I had mixed results. The Saudi-led war on Yemen began and the College closed down permanently. I stayed in Yemen, again to bear witness, and again I wrote extensively. But more importantly, just before the war began, I had started a girls’ educational development program and was using the College’s rooms to host it. This program was my baby and I wasn’t going to leave it because of a war. Besides, I didn’t have a passport or a way out. The girls’ program ran weekly sessions and aimed to build self-­ confidence and leadership within its members while offering a socially acceptable platform for girls to meet other girls outside their own family

134 

R. Moloney

and share stories and experiences. It was, in my view, highly successful. It is my dearest hope that all those girls benefitted and have been able to implement what they learned, in their professional lives or as mothers and housewives. Sadly, the program was shut down in late 2020 due to the danger presented by the Houthi rebels that ruled the Northern region of the country. What our little organisation of women was doing was dangerous. One day, the Houthis came to the College to investigate reports of a secret study group. When the girls heard the men’s voices, one of them got up calmly and erased the whiteboard and the rest, sensing danger, instinctively put away their Arabic books and took out their English books. By the time the Houthi officer entered the classroom, all students had their English notebooks open to the last lesson. The officer took a look at the books and a look around the room and made a comment – “English is ok, but Arabic is prohibited, you must get permission from us to conduct Arabic study”. To be literate is to have power. This is dangerous to oppressors and tyrants, should one day the people read their God-­ given rights as recorded in the Holy Quran. And even more dangerous would be literate women – women who will have children and will teach them to read when the public schools fail. Four-and-a-half years into the war, I left. My family could no longer protect me, and the threat of being abducted by rebels was real. I registered with the United Nations International Organisation for Migration and my repatriation was arranged. On returning to Australia and ‘decompressing’ from the intense experiences of a decade in Yemen, I took up work in an alternative education setting. My ability to speak Arabic was seen as an asset by the Principal and once I started work, I found that I could use Arabic with Iraqi refugees from Islamic, Christian, and Madaean backgrounds. I understood how hard it was to live in a different country and to survive war, so created an atmosphere for these students to be able to ask questions comfortably and discuss life in Australia, its people and culture. I could also give them space to share their own backgrounds, culture and beliefs. Some students just enjoyed being able to speak about their backgrounds and have what they said heard, respected and understood. When facilitating casual chat at lunch times, I could see the lights coming on in these

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

135

students’ eyes. I now have a daily impromptu lunchtime hang-out in my classroom for these students as well as a number of Samoan students who have found belonging amongst us. I have added guitars and hand-drums to the mix as a way of expressing oneself creatively – without the need to speak at all – music is in itself a language. The music sessions gained popularity and I have been able to present it to the school leadership as an important extra-curricular activity. This is in order to gain funding for external programs within the local area which I hope will help students find a place for themselves in Australian society. At the moment, I still see most of them floating aimlessly – and that is a part of why they are enrolled in this school in the first place. I have a lot to look forward to with these students. And they have a lot to look forward to as well, as students and as Australians. And I am reminded of the girls in the development program in Sana’a. Now, some of them are married, some of them are starting university (with financial assistance from Australian friends), but all of them remember their days together with fondness, appreciation and smiles. And that is what makes it all worthwhile.

 he Role of Language in Religious Studies T in a Shia Muslim Community School Mojgan Mokhatebi Ardakani and Zainab Taylor Rizvi Macquarie University Sydney, NSW, Australia Imam Mehdi Islamic School Auburn, NSW, Australia My name is Mojgan and I am introducing my friend Zainab’s narrative. I am a scholar of community language learning, and for my doctoral studies I investigated the teaching of Persian (Farsi) in Sydney community language schools. Although I was not able to include religion as part

136 

R. Moloney

of that study, it remains very important to me. Language knowledge is needed to understand the religion and religion is acquired through the medium of language. At a deeper level, religion and language are closely connected as most religions have a language associated with them. Learning a language specific to a religion is vital to the practice of that religion. That language plays a significant part in the life of followers of that religion because they use the language to perform rituals and religious practices. A “religious language” may seem unfathomable to those outside the language, particularly to English monolinguals in an English-dominant society. This is perceived as an issue in the community language schools which include religious studies: for instance, Shia Muslim studies are provided for students from different language backgrounds at the Shia Muslim Saturday school in Sydney. My friend Zainab is the principal of the Shia Muslim Saturday school. Through her narrative we explore what strategies are being used in relation to mixed languages such as English, Urdu, Hindi, Dari and Arabic and the religious studies among students attending the school. We see how her leadership encompasses the diverse communities attending the school, coping with the issue of language to maintain learning of religious and cultural beliefs while respecting other cultures and languages. * * * My name is Zainab. My birth name was Louise Taylor, but by my choice I legally changed my name to Zainab Taylor and then became Zainab Taylor Rizvi upon marriage. As a child I always had a great interest in religion. Even though I lived in a rural community called Gum Scrub, on the North Coast of New South Wales, my parents allowed me to go to Sunday School with my neighbours who were Seventh Day Adventist. This is where my love of religion began at the age of 5. As a youth I attended both Anglican Youth Groups and Catholic Antioch Church with friends. I also completed Bible studies by correspondence to the age of 18. In my youth all my studies were in English and it was very easy to attend programs and read books to gain greater knowledge.

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

137

After studying Islam for 1 year, in 1996 I became a Muslim. As a revert to Islam, I found it quite difficult to gain knowledge and information about Islam from any sources in English. From this point I formed a resolve that I wanted it to be easier for other new Muslims to be able to study Islam. I obtained many books from different Sects of Islam to enable students to have a broad range of the study of religion in English. In my first 10 years as a new Muslim I held Saturday classes for new Muslim women in a social type of context. Since then, I still help new Muslims by sending out a “Revert Kit” to welcome new Muslims and provide them with many books and resources where they can get more information about Islam. In addition, I have organized local centres in their area that speak or provide religious education in English. Now we have online resources as a great new medium for new Muslims to access courses, lectures and presentations. We have a connected network across Australia to help support new Muslims in their area. Language has always been a difficult defining issue in my life as I only speak English. Most Muslim communities speak either Arabic, Farsi or Urdu as their first language. This can become extremely isolating and difficult for an English-only speaking Australian becoming a Muslim. Living in a multicultural multilingual Muslim community, this also means it is likely that an English monolingual Muslim may marry someone from another cultural and linguistic background. This is changing with the next generation, however, where English is becoming a common dominant language, though diverse backgrounds are still evident. I have been a Muslim for 25 years and the journey to gain knowledge and cope with language constraints at times has been a struggle, especially in the early days when there was not a lot of literature available on Shia Islam. This made me determined to ensure that all new Muslims and their children, the next generation, would be able to access and learn about their culture and religion in the English language. I had my first child in 1999 and by 2004 I realised that there was no English language Islamic school for him to attend in order to learn Quranic Arabic and Islamic Studies. I enrolled him in an Arabic community language school on Saturdays. This did not work well for him as the teachers all spoke in Arabic. There was no place for a child with an English language background to learn to read the Holy Quran in Arabic.

138 

R. Moloney

I advised the community that there was a big gap in provision for English speaking children. At that time, however, their priority was to secure and teach their community language in order to try and sustain Arabic language in their community. I understood that goal, but I also believed that in the future there would be a need to accommodate students who want to learn Islam through the medium of English. My husband was Pakistani, so I also spoke to the Pakistani community. In my perception, the cultural group of your spouse becomes the main community you will belong to. I provided the Urdu speaking community with a plan and curriculum in English to teach Islamic studies and to teach Quran with English instruction. This was rejected as they wanted it to be in Urdu. As an English speaker, I obviously could not run a school in Urdu, so nothing came of this. I felt powerless, and without any collaborative support. In 2005 I started preparing again to open an English Saturday School where the Islamic lessons would be in English and the Quranic Arabic would be taught through the medium of English. We commenced very tentatively as it was a new venture. I had anxiety that it would not be well received and in fact we had many objectors and detractors who predicted that it would not last. However, I did not sway from my chosen path. In 2006, I started the first all-English Saturday School, “Imam Mehdi Islamic School”, in Sydney NSW, Australia. This was the first Islamic Saturday school in which English was the medium of instruction. At this time there were other Islamic Saturday schools, also in early commencement, teaching in Arabic, Farsi or a mix of Urdu and English. But at Imam Mehdi Islamic School the Quran teacher explains in English how to articulate the letters and words and explains the meaning of the Arabic words in English. Imam Mehdi Islamic School commenced mid-year to give our school a two-term trial. We started with twenty students: two Arabic Quran teachers, and two English speaking Islamic Studies teachers, one being myself. Masha Allah (with Allah’s Blessings), almost 15  years later we have 230 students enrolled for 2021. This is the maximum number that we can enrol and we have a waiting list for families wanting to attend our school.

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

139

Our school, now named “Imam Mehdi Youth Inc,” is modelled on a mainstream school program. We work to a curriculum with outcomes and objectives to be met by the teachers, in both Islamic studies and Quran Studies. This year we are enhancing the Quranic Arabic studies lessons to include translation of Arabic words of Quran into English. This will enhance the understanding of Quran, and therefore when students read a Surah, or verses in Arabic, they will have a basic understanding in English. As they learn the meaning of more words, their understanding of the meaning of the verses will improve. This in no way replaces the importance of learning the whole of the Arabic language. I have found that, in my context, while most English speaking children are happy to learn to read Quran in Arabic, they hesitate to learn Arabic as a communicative language. This is purely the experience of my particular school community with very few Arabic speakers attending. As far as I’m aware, we are one of the only Saturday Schools that has no government funding and no major sponsors (being under the direct control of an Islamic Centre). We have always been an independent school. The families that attend Imam Mehdi Youth come from many cultural and language backgrounds, including Farsi, Urdu, Arabic (Iraqi/ Lebanese), Burmese, Dari and Hazaragi. Parents are very pleased with our school and the way in which it is organised and run. I am the Principal and my main assistant is also an Australian Muslim (with a teaching degree). Quran teachers are all Arabic background except for one who was formerly one of our students and is now teaching Quran while completing a formal Quran Teaching Course. Our staff of 21 have a variety of educational backgrounds. We have three qualified teachers, two studying teaching, four teachers aides/ Student Learning Support Officers (covers teaching Spectrum and Special Needs students), four working or studying Child Care, one psychologist, one nurse, three youth workers, two administration staff, one Zakra (specialised Islamic lecturer) and three dedicated Knowledgeable Islamic staff. We have several Sheikhs and Centres that work in collaboration with us, providing support and any assistance. We invite guest speakers to come to our school as well. I continue to be inspired by the knowledge, support and enthusiasm of my colleagues and my community.

140 

R. Moloney

Our school is very respectful towards all the communities and their languages which are part of the school. At the same time, parents are respectful and pleased that we are teaching their children in English language as they understand this is important, and aligns with their regular school learning. All our students are attending school in New South Wales, where English is the main language spoken. Thus, for studies of their religion, the students would like lessons also to be in English. Students tell me that all formal community functions lectures are in their community language which most youth do not understand in a formal setting such as a lecture. They complain to me that they do not understand these formal speakers. This seemed strange to me, as I hear them speaking their language with their parents. The students explained that the language which the Sheikh or lecturer speaks is a more formal version of the language so they do not understand what is being said. This is why I feel strongly, with my teachers and families, that it is imperative to teach Islamic Studies and Quranic Arabic in English as this will enable the young students to learn their religion at a deeper level with a better understanding. However, I remain culturally aware of the importance of maintaining the language of the students’ families. For this reason, I also give opportunity for poetry reciting and small speeches to be given in students’ community language. This is a way of demonstrating to the parents that we respect and encourage them to teach their children their cultural and linguistic background. It is very important for children to have a clear idea of their identity not only of their birth country, but also including that of their parents and ancestors. I always encourage students to learn their community language as it is a way to stay connected with relatives overseas. Parents often act as mediators of the religious extension of Arabic learning. Our families are pleased with the effectiveness of my organisation of the school and how I promote cultural identity and the importance of maintaining languages in the community. * * * Zainab’s narration of her learning and experiences teaching Islam explains her assumptions, motivation and justification for what she has done since she has converted to Islam. Her narration informs us of the trajectory of

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

141

her experiences and reflections as a Muslim woman. Her present situation is linked to her personal and professional past constructed and represented through her journey as a new Muslim. We see how a sequence of events leads to her later actions, making her story meaningful to her listeners. Her context is a personal one, for the issues investigated by her have been raised in personal ways since the beginning of her journey as a new Muslim woman. At her time of conversion to Islam and as an English-speaking Muslim woman, the very monolingual layout of the Islamic studies in Australian society gave her impetus to solve the language problem for new converts. It sowed the seeds from which her professional life as a principal of a Shia Saturday school initially grew. Zainab’s lone private devotional concerns brought about reorientation of her life. This resulted in wide-spread public consequences 15  years later when Zainab became principal of a Shia Muslim Saturday school where countless happy children and families admire and appreciate the effectiveness of her organisation.

Singing the Spirit and the Realm of Oneness Trish Watts Voice Movement Therapy Practitioner Sydney, Australia I believe passionately in the power of singing to change landscapes, especially the terrain of the heart. As an Australian, a third or fourth generation British/Celt, singing has always been my primary language and how I navigate my world. Raised in a New South Wales farming district, I was blessed with a singing father who happened to be the choir conductor and a vivacious, faith-filled mother who insisted on all five kids learning piano and music theory from the Catholic nuns down the road. The joy that reverberated through the walls of the local Methodist church each Sunday was palpable. It was where we expressed our faith, community spirit and roots. Hymnody was a big part of my weekly diet. Four-part harmony singing gave us an internal scaffolding which fostered a sense of belonging. If we

142 

R. Moloney

didn’t show up to sing our part, the harmony would be out of balance and we would be missed. I’m eternally grateful for this musical inheritance which instilled in me a language of spirited singing as a way of life and a balm for the soul. Everywhere I go I listen out for ‘harmony’ and the message. Stories and songs are passed down the generations holding the collective memory of those who gather to pray, to praise, to protest. The lyrics of these songs and hymns, which are sung over and over, hold the faith stories, and instill values and spiritual laws that become the bedrock for an embodied spiritual life. Without them it’s possible to become lost, ungrounded, grief stricken and spiritually ill. It was from this context that I found myself entering the Reconciliation Chapel of Taizé, in France. I was a bit worn out. I felt like a jet-lagged animal entering a sheltering cave. Saffron orange sails fell from the ceiling, feathering my weary mind, and the room glowed with the softness of candlelight. I was not alone, thousands of young people from all over the world were gathered, kneeling, preparing for prayer. Out of nowhere a tenor voice rose, singing in French, a soft tone that floated, a melody that went straight to my heart. Then the choir joined in and harmonies circled round us all. I had surely left the planet and gone to heaven. I started to sob uncontrollably. It was such a relief to know that a place like this exists. A singing sanctuary in the hillsides of France. To be touched by a huge chorus of harmonic angels was overwhelming. The familiarity of the chants and texts which I’d been singing previously in Australia was disarming, wrapping around me like gentle swaddling. The French tradition is masterful at expressing sensitive beauty in language, melody and harmony. Almost 20 years ago now, it was the fourth time I’d made the pilgrimage from Sydney to this humble ‘womb of sound’. During my week-long retreat, most of the songs were sung in French, German, Polish, Russian, Latin and Spanish. The majority of the youth gathered were from these countries. I wasn’t able to speak directly with them, yet when we sang, the heart and soul took over and I was transported by a communion of Oneness across culture, country and difference. All separations and exclusiveness dissolved.

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

143

Taizé is a small village in Burgundy, France, that is home to an ecumenical Christian community known as the Brothers of Taizé. It is an important site of pilgrimage with a special focus on youth, welcoming over 100,000 pilgrims a year. Over one hundred brothers from Catholic and Protestant traditions from about thirty different countries live at Taizé. Pilgrims participate in meditative singing, prayer, study, sharing and communal living and are encouraged to live in a spirit of kindness, simplicity and reconciliation. It is easier to sing in a language than to speak. When songs are repeated as in a chant, the heart, soul and mind remember and engage with the intention, the prayer, behind the song. Something about the vowels opening over a melody, the rise and fall of the pitch, the prosody of the lyrics, all of this creates a flow. Right and left brain are engaged and a unity is entered into with the communal body. In Taizé, I felt immense respect and humility for the opportunity to experience another’s culture, another’s personal hopes and prayers. When we sing in another’s mother tongue we are saying “we’re with you, we hear you, we feel your presence, we care about you, you matter.” As we moved through the sung prayers in different languages, I noticed the quality of the sound changed too. We moved from soft tonal French psalms to bold, bass driven Russian Alleluias to colorful Spanish rounds. Day after day, with bells ringing out morning, midday and evening, I experienced deep transformation, a dropping into a pool of tranquility and a dwelling in the knowledge that living in unity is possible. A dream for my future work was planted. ‘When we dream alone it remains a dream, but when we dream together it’s the beginning of reality’(Dom Helder Camara, former cardinal of Recife, Brazil). I found my pathway as an educator and performer in community arts practice, in Australia and abroad. It’s very hard to fight if we’re singing together. I witnessed this powerfully while living in Cambodia between 2015 and 2017. Starting a community choir in Phnom Penh was an ambitious project and one that made sense once we started to attract the local Khmer folk and expatriates from all around the world. Some weeks the only common language was our breath and desire to connect through our hearts. We began with what we could do: holding hands, breathing together, and then intoning

144 

R. Moloney

different vowels to create an imaginary garden of sound. We then moved to singing out percussive consonants ‘Gah, Bah, Dah, Sha’ and working with rhythm patterns. This became our warm up and connecting ground (which is the pre-verbal land we inhabit as babies and toddlers). Gradually confidence grew and songs were shared from different countries: the Philippines, Germany, Slovenia, France and more. Singing in their native dialect helped each person arrive and feel more secure and part of the choir. Laughter and joy often erupted as we did our best to copy the inflection and accent of the languages. It was fun to step out from our comfort zones and truly meet each other in a felt sense. One can never underestimate the power of voicing in one’s own language and song. It tells us, ‘I too have travelled from somewhere and have a story and a song-line to sing!’ It has been over 40  years that I’ve enjoyed the companionship and spirituality of the brothers of Taizé. I am grateful especially for Brother Ghislain, who has watched over the South Pacific region with delight and dedication. I bow to the inspiration and guidance of the brothers, creating a home for the Spirit to dance in my cells. To be called up as a singer and keeper of spiritual, soulful songs is a privilege and a vocation for which I feel truly grateful and humbled. ‘The singer lasts a season long, While the song it lasts forever’ (from the song ‘Good Friend’ by Jan Harmon.)

‘Reawakening Our Language’: The Story of the Nyoongar Bible Translation John Harris Bible Society Australia Sydney, NSW, Australia Are Indigenous languages dying or sleeping? The languages of Australia’s First Nations peoples are said to be dying. The losing of a language is a tragic process. The loss of language, the loss of culture and the loss of identity are inextricably linked. When the British invaded Australia in 1788 there were around 500 separate Indigenous languages. Now it is

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

145

said that there are perhaps only 13 languages which could possibly survive into the next generation. In the 2016 census, 65,000 or 10% of Indigenous people reported that they spoke an Indigenous language at home. While many of these came from the few surviving communities where an Indigenous language is fully spoken, many other respondents actually spoke a form of English at home but with an admixture of Indigenous words. Using and perpetuating those words meant a lot to them, reinforcing their identity and their determination not to totally lose their language. These words came from 160 different Indigenous languages. But the most telling statistic is that of these 160 languages in which some words survive, only thirteen Indigenous languages were fully spoken by children as their first language. Unless something changes, these are the only languages which may be able to be properly passed on to the next generation. Almost all of these languages are spoken in communities in the north of the Northern Territory and in the Central Desert. An encouraging sign, however, is that an increasing number of Indigenous people are motivated to relearn their languages. This is less difficult a task where there are still elderly people who more fully speak the language. The task is much more difficult where no full speakers of the undamaged language remain. Many of these learners, however, do not think of their damaged languages as ‘dying’ but as ‘sleeping’. Rather than reviving their languages, they like to speak of ‘reawakening’ them. It is, nevertheless, very difficult to reawaken a language in which there are no accessible examples, no models of sustained continuous text. When a language is declining, the grammar is among the first things to be lost. People retain concrete nouns such as relationship terms, animals and implements, perhaps even short phrases such as ‘Come here’, or ‘I am hungry’. But they lose grammar, that is, they lose the linguistic means to join more than a few simple words together into a coherent and grammatically correct sentence. They cannot engage in a sustained conversation. It is very difficult, therefore, if not impossible, to reawaken a sleeping language without a model of how it was spoken, how it was put together. The most sustained texts available in any Indigenous languages are parts of the Christian Bible in translation. Having this Biblical material in an

146 

R. Moloney

Indigenous language does not guarantee its survival  – there are many forces which can destroy languages. But having a part of a Bible text in the language creates at least the possibility that the language can be recovered. This is not necessarily because of the nature of the Bible itself. The same value could no doubt be given to any significant text. But there simply are no others. Relearning a language requires a substantial body of examples of how that language is put together. The point is that no-one other than Christian missionaries ever did this work. Indigenous people owe a great debt to linguists, anthropologists and others who compiled word lists, dictionaries and grammars. But no-one other than Christian missionaries gifted Indigenous people with such a substantial model of continuous text. Some scholars recorded traditional stories and that is very important and helpful. But the translation of even part of the Bible required a dedicated and concerted effort on the part of missionary translators and their Indigenous colleagues over many years. No one other than them valued a substantial text so deeply that they were willing to spend much, if not all, of their lives translating it into an Indigenous language. Some part of the Bible has been translated and published in 50 Indigenous languages. The oldest of those translations are in languages which are no longer fully spoken yet the published texts provide precious and irreplaceable resources for the reawakening of these language. These include Ngarrindjeri (1864, SA), Awabakal (1892, NSW) and Worrorra (1930, WA). Bible Society Australia regularly receives requests from communities, universities and other educational institutions for permission to republish historic translations such as these for language learning programmes. A highly significant recent phenomenon is the reawakening of Indigenous languages through the process of Bible Translation itself. These new projects have invariably commenced through the initiative of Indigenous people themselves, people who are acutely aware of their language loss and who want the Christian Bible, or part of it, in their traditional language. This works as a catalyst in reawakening the language simply because those people are prepared to dedicate themselves to the task over many years.

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

147

Of those Indigenous people who report that they are relearning their language, the single largest group are members of the Nyoongar nation of Perth and the south of Western Australia. Their motivation to do this owes much to the Nyoongar Bible Translation Project. The Story of the Nyoongar Bible Translation Project. In 1999, two Nyoongar women, sisters Lorna Little and Vivienne Sahanna, were in Sydney attending the National Aboriginal Anglican Council. They approached me about the possibility of a Nyoongar Bible Translation. At the time, I was Director of Translation and Text in the Bible Society in Australia. The proposal interested me greatly. The idea of translating Scripture into a damaged language was itself a statement of hope to an oppressed people. It was a challenge which, if we could achieve it, if we could show that it could be done, would set an example to the Bible Translation world. The response of some of the Board members and senior staff of the Bible Society was quite negative. This was 22 years ago and the notion of reviving and protecting Aboriginal languages was not widely contemplated, let alone a declared national priority. I was told this was nothing more than an academic exercise, an esoteric linguistic experiment. What is the point of translating Scripture into a dying language? Why should we waste Bible Society supporters’ donations? Others, however, glimpsed the possibilities and were prepared to support the proposal. Finally, approval was granted to start a Nyoongar project, provided that the costs could be fitted into the existing translation budget and that donations could be raised to reimburse the costs. I agreed and, given the mixed support, also decided to take on the role of Consultant to the project personally rather than creating potential difficulties for other hard-working translation staff members. Thus began a project unique in the world, a Bible Translation Project unlike any other. None of us imagined at the time how significant it would become Nyoongar Christians attended the meeting later in 1999  in Perth where the Nyoongar Bible Translation project was formally established. Nyoongar Elder, Pastor Len Wallam, was elected Chair of the project and Vivienne Sahanna its Secretary. The other members of the translation team were Lorna Little, Tom Little and Joanna Corbett. Non-Aboriginal members were respected missionary linguist, Wilf Douglas, and myself as

148 

R. Moloney

the Bible Society’s Translation Consultant. Team members were voluntary, paid only modest expenses to facilitate meeting. The work would not have been possible without the sincere support of the Bible Society Branch in Western Australia providing meeting space, meals and accommodation. From the very first meeting to establish the project, the Nyoongar Christians unanimously wanted the first translation to be a Gospel  – something I thought at the time would be a hard ask. I suggested the Gospel of Mark, traditionally the first Gospel translated because it is short. They did not want Mark first because, they argued, it contains nothing of Jesus’ birth and very little of Jesus’ resurrection. That left a choice between Luke and Matthew and everyone accepted my assurance that Luke was the easier of the two. So began the long task of finding the words and the grammar to translate the Gospel of Luke, to re-express the life of Jesus in the language of the Nyoongar people, a language which they loved but which had been literally taken from them. It was not a surprise that at their first meeting, the translation team asked whether, before we started Luke, we could translate the Lord’s Prayer (a form of which is in Luke 11:2–4). This has frequently been a request and a translation priority throughout the world although it is surprisingly difficult. Thus it was that the first Scripture translated into Nyoongar was ‘Our Father in heaven, your name is holy’. Ngaala Maaman ngiyan yaaka yira moodlooka, Our Father who stands above everything. Noonang korl kooranyi. Your name holy.

These words were written on a Saturday late in 1999. Pastor Len Wallam returned to Bunbury to lead the Sunday service at his church. He preached on the Holiness of God. It was not until many years later, after Len’s death, that the whole story of that day was told by Margaret Little. Len was a greatly loved and respected man as both Nyoongar Elder and Christian Pastor, but he was also an angry man with a deep hurt inside him. Not only had he lost his traditional land and much of his culture but his language had been taken from him. As a school child he had been

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

149

beaten if he was heard using Nyoongar and he had put his language away in a deep, dark place. Preaching in English, he always spoke with clenched fists as if restraining himself. When he stood to preach that memorable day, he used the Nyoongar language from the pulpit for the first time. He said those first few phrases of the Lord’s Prayer in his people’s own ancient language. It was a life-changing moment for him. He unclenched his fists and opened his palms towards his people. He preached that way ever after, with open hands. The profound effect on him of translating his beloved Scriptures into Nyoongar was noted in his obituary. We noticed a dramatic change in Len when he was asked to head up the translation group established by the Bible Society in WA several years ago. Not only did that group translate Scripture portions into the Nyoongar Language, but Len also got in touch with the language of his people. His pride in language has since been shared by members of his family… bringing tremendous affirmation to themselves and those they teach. The Lord’s Prayer contains many translation problems with complex ideas and grammar. We chose not to finish it at the time, leaving it until later when the members of the translation team were more experienced. Instead I suggested a narrative, one of Jesus’ parables. The team took very little time to choose the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11–32). Everyone knew exactly what a prodigal son was and it touched a chord with them. The little book, The Lost Son, was published in 2002. Cheaply-printed with Wilf Douglas’s simple line drawings of an Aboriginal lost son, the booklet was an instant success. It was dedicated in a moving service at St George’s Cathedral, Perth. Len Wallam read the parable in Nyoongar from the great waalitj eagle lectern. It was the first time ever that the Bible had been read in a Christian church in the Nyoongar language, in the language of the land upon which the cathedral stood. It seemed to me that from that moment on, the people knew they could translate a whole gospel. And they did. It took them 15  years. The Nyoongar words already known and used by the translators were a valuable beginning but far from sufficient for the Bible. Words had to be sought from wordlists compiled by settlers and sailors and missionaries. Old people were interviewed. Grammar was reconstructed from the bones of old sentences recorded more than a century ago. And people remembered the language they had

150 

R. Moloney

heard in childhood. Words arose in their minds and hearts from the hidden depths where they had long been locked away. Some words and phrases came in dreams as people dreamed of their mother’s lullabies or their grandfather’s storytelling. After a year or two, we did indeed translate the whole of the Lord’s Prayer. It was printed on cards the size of a credit card so people could carry it with them. A Nyoongar woman who was a gaol visitor gave them to Nyoongar prisoners. ‘There was no way many of them would speak to me if I mentioned anything Christian’ she said. ‘They would turn away. But they took the little Lord’s Prayer cards from my hand because it was in their own traditional language, the language of their ancestors and their land’. Not all the translators lived to see the result of their work and join in the joy of its dedication. Wilf Douglas died in 2004, Len Wallam in 2008 and Lorna Little in 2011. We were a very small translation group when Warda-Kwabba Luke-ang (Good News of Luke) was finally published in 2014. But the Nyoongar people rejoiced. Again at St George’s Cathedral, smoke swirled around the great waalitj eagle lectern as Tom Little read the Gospel in Nyoongar and Vivienne Sahanna was presented with an award. The format of this translation of the Bible was a world first. It is a beautifully illustrated and presented book but, as the reawakening of a sleeping language, it needed to be very accessible to those encountering Nyoongar anew for the first time. On the left hand page is the Nyoongar text of Luke and on the right hand page is an English ‘back translation’, that is, an exact translation of the Nyoongar text as a learning aid. At the bottom of the page is a glossary of all the new Nyoongar words on the page with their English meanings. Nyoongar educator, Charmaine Councillor, of the Nyoongar Language Centre, recently spoke about Warda-Kwabba Luke-ang. ‘You have given us back our language’ she said. ‘We now have a model of how it should be spoken’. Led by Tom Little, a new group of people are coming together to continue the Nyoongar Bible Translation project, aiming particularly to train a younger generation to take over. He knows that there is, nevertheless, a long and challenging road ahead. Tom Little has already translated the

5  The Front Line: Teaching Language and Spirit 

151

Book of Ruth. Beautifully illustrated in colour by Daphne Davis, an Aboriginal artist, it was published in 2020. The Nyoongar people appreciated the Book of Ruth for its insights into the practices of a traditional culture with features not unlike their own. A striking case was the Hebrew word goel, which was the traditional role of the man Boaz who rescued Ruth. This was the man whose traditional role was to protect, redeem and restore a woman who, through the death of her husband, found herself without a protector and without an inheritance in the land. English Bible translations struggle to find a word to describe this role, unfamiliar in the Western world. Modern translations use the awkward term ‘kinsman-redeemer’ but it is a strange and difficult neologism to most people. Tom Little, however, knew a precise word in the Nyoongar language to describe a Nyoongar man with that exact role – the moorditj-moyiran. The Nyoongar people know this word and translate it as ‘right-way man’. In Nyoongar culture, the moorditj-­ moyiran, the ‘right way man’, is the man in the correct relationship to a woman in need, with the responsibility for her. He is duty bound to become the protector, redeemer and husband of a woman in need of security. There is no language in the world with a better word to translate goel. There are critics of Bible translation who say that to promote Christianity is to destroy Aboriginal culture and identity. But this is simply not true and especially it is not true when the translation is the desire and the responsibility of the Aboriginal people themselves. Receiving their language back again is the most powerful rejuvenation of culture. In particular, the translation of the Bible into their own traditional language confirms the deep Aboriginal traditional understanding that the world is a created place, a spiritual place. It is a profoundly significant thing that Aboriginal Christian people, encountering the Scriptures in their own language for the first time, find their traditional identity reinforced rather than weakened. They feel even more strongly about their land when they come to see it as the gift of Boolanga-Yira, of the God for whom and in whose name they must care for it as a sacred place. This is no better expressed than in the ‘Welcome to Country’ which the Nyoongar Bible translation team members were asked to produce. A Nyoongar Welcome to Country.

152 

R. Moloney

Boolanga-Yira, ngalang Maaman, baal warn nidja boodjer. God, our Father, he made this land. Boolanga-Yira miyalitj boodjer baal kwadja warn. God    saw the land he had made. Boolonga-Yira waangki, “Baal kwabba.” God said, “It is good.” Boolanga-Yira yidja Nyoongar moorta boodjer-al. God put Nyoongar people in the land. Boolanga-Yira warranga ngalang maam-inrama, God told our ancestors, “Noonooka djarnyak karrodjin nidja boodjer.” “You must look after this land”. Ngala yanganan noonooka nidja kooranyap-ak. We welcome you to this sacred place. Kana bedik-bedik boodjer-al. Tread softly  on the land Yana boodjer-al nakal-al. Walk on the land in peace. Boolanga-Yirang kol-al. In God’s name. Kaya. True/Amen. Yes it is kaya. It is true. Amen

Reference Palmer, P.  J. (2017). The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life. Wiley.

Part II

6 Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context of Riddim and Poetry: A Creative School Program Devrim Yilmaz and Michael Jarrett

Introduction The school program, Riddim and Poetry, was born in Armidale, New South Wales. Armidale is a medium sized regional town, with a population around twenty-five thousand, whose care has been shared among Anaiwan, Gumbaynggirr, Gamilaraay and Dunghutti peoples. Due to the significant presence of Indigenous students in Armidale schools, the schools find ways to enrich their curriculum or implement educational programs to cater for the cultural, social and linguistic needs of Aboriginal children. One of these schools is Minimbah Aboriginal School where the Riddim and Poetry program was implemented, followed by a language program focussed on the Gumbaynggirr language. Minimbah School is D. Yilmaz (*) University of New England, Armidale, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] M. Jarrett Department of Education NSW, Parramatta, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_6

155

156 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

committed to closing the achievement gap for Aboriginal students to help them become successful in their careers within Australian society and it caters for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander students in a culturally safe environment. During the program design, the views of the community were of utmost importance, because the program aimed to deliver workshops outside the curriculum content. Riddim and Poetry followed Participatory Indigenist Research (PIR hereafter) (Evans et al., 2014), which is based on the earlier work by Rigney (1999, 1997). This research paradigm places Indigenous cultures, knowledges and peoples in the heart of research design. PIR consists of eight steps: building relationships, conceptualisation, development and approval, data collection and management, analysis, report writing, dissemination and learning from experience (Evans et al., 2014). The Riddim and Poetry program followed the steps of PIR. In order to build relationships, the First Nations’ protocol was followed. This included visiting elders, asking for their permission, and obtaining endorsement. The project team conceptualised the program based on the drumming and poetry work done with Indigenous children in Australia. There were established and extremely successful drumming programs in Australia at the time, such as Drum Atweme in Alice Springs Northern Territory (Atweme, 2014). We, the Riddim and Poetry team, coupled what we had learnt from the existing drumming programs with the idea of using poetry in the classroom as a form of creative writing that would provide the students with opportunities to connect with their culture (Christensen & Watson, 2015). Furthermore, our Riddim and Poetry program paved the pathway as a motivational introduction, creating a group spirit and sense of connection, towards the Gumbaynggirr language program which followed.

Literature Review Riddim and Poetry is one of the ways in which Culturally Responsive Pedagogy (CRP) can be put into practice within the Australian context. Culturally responsive teaching has dominated educational discourses since Gay (1994) and Ladson-Billings’ (1995) seminal articles analysing

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

157

how teachers could and should address the needs of African American and South American students in the U.S. This work soon extended to include First Nations students in the U.S. (Alaska Native Knowledge Network, 1998; Castagno & Brayboy, 2008), Canada (Lewthwaite & McMillan, 2010; Nicol et al., 2010), and New Zealand (Bishop et al., 2007). Gay provides a definition of CRP: Culturally responsive teaching is defined as using the cultural characteristics, experiences, and perspectives of ethnically diverse students as conduits for teaching them more effectively. It is based on the assumption that when academic knowledge and skills are situated within the lived experiences and frames of reference of students, they are more personally meaningful, have higher interest appeal, and are learned more easily and thoroughly (Gay, 2000, 2002).

When the above definition and the development of CRP are considered, three important objectives emerge: academic success, cultural competence and critical consciousness (Ladson-Billings, 1995; Gay, 2002). In other words, CRP allows students to become academically successful as the teaching practices are designed to be culturally responsive; due to these teaching practices, students become culturally competent and maintain this competence. Finally, CRP aims to help students and teachers become critically conscious of pedagogical practices and planning relating to classroom, school, curriculum and policy. Therefore, CRP should not be considered an approach that results in cultural essentialism, reduced to a checklist of do’s and don’ts, or built on a deficit model of teaching. Recently, there have been significant developments in Australia aiming to provide students with culturally responsive teaching, and the educational programs designed for Indigenous children should place Indigenous knowledges and spirituality in the heart of these programs. John Greatorex emphasises this: We always wait for seasons to come. When the time is right for young children to be told about certain stories, to be taught about the land, learn about the history, the time comes when the elder of a clan of the land decides and says it

158 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

is right for me to go and tell these certain stories about this land to these people (Guyula, 2010).

Driven by this ancient philosophy, Yunkaporta and McGinty (2009), in their action research, explore how the mainstream curricula and the local Indigenous knowledge should meet to create productive processes. The researchers use a theoretical model joining traditional, local knowledges, non-local knowledges and contemporary local knowledges inspired by the joining of Gamilaraay, Yuwalaraay and Wayilwan countries. The teachers in the study include Indigenous knowledges in addition to Western knowledge in their lessons, and this results in successful learning and behaviour outcomes, as well as student autonomy and creativity. Based on the same motive, (Osborne & Guenther, 2013) introduce the idea of red dirt thinking and discuss the importance of Indigenous knowledges grounded on the land rather than the blue sky. Red dirt thinking provides the means for creativity in very remote Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island schools. In another action research, Rioux et al. (2017) present how Aboriginal and Western knowledge were integrated into the biology curriculum in a Montessori classroom in regional Queensland. This integrated approach strengthened students’ identities as Aboriginal people and science learners as well as the status of local Aboriginal knowledge. In her doctoral thesis, McCarthy (2010) investigates the disparity between the mainstream education and the way Indigenous people learn. The study is conducted at a metropolitan Aboriginal secondary school where a sporting program is developed and implemented to reengage Aboriginal learners in schooling. The program, the Girls’ Academy, leads to significant personal and academic improvements and achievements. In relation to Indigenous mathematical knowledge, Treacy et al. (2014) investigate Aboriginal students’ conceptualisation and thinking strategies in counting tasks. The tasks were designed within the local Indigenous knowledge and the findings suggest that the participating students do not use counting to make equal sets. Similarly, Ewing (2012, 2014) presents a study which investigates the situated mathematical knowledge of mothers and children in one Torres Strait Islander community. According to the researcher, the use of daily practice of fish giving, Indigenous

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

159

knowledges and object familiarity would improve children’s engagement with school and their learning of mathematics in the early years of schooling. Most recently, Rigney et  al. (2020) investigate the ways in which early career teachers implement creative and body-based learning (CBL) in mathematics as a way of enacting CRP for Indigenous and ethnically diverse students. The study, which uses an ethnographic case study approach, reveals that the teachers managed to implement CBL in their math teaching which resulted in student engagement and made students feel clever and competent. These research studies explore culturally responsive pedagogical practices for Indigenous children in Australia and document the ways in which Indigenous children’s engagement with school and their learning improve when Indigenous knowledges and spirituality guide planning, implementation and reflection processes. Inspired by CRP, the Riddim and Poetry program aims to use creativity as a means to teach Indigenous languages to Indigenous school children; as music (Yob, 2010) and language (Bradley, 2011) are unquestionably important elements of spirituality. In this chapter, we will firstly recount the design of the program and then discuss the ways in which we implemented the drumming and poem writing workshops, following the steps of the PIR paradigm. Subsequently, the chapter focuses on the Gumbaynggirr language lessons delivered by Michael Jarrett (Gawa Micklo) in relation to Aboriginal spirituality. The chapter concludes with the important lessons we have learnt from the Riddim and Poetry experience and what needs to be done in order to share and maintain Indigenous languages in Australia.

 esigning Drumming and Poem D Writing Workshops In order to follow the first step of the PIR paradigm, which is building relationships, we contacted two Indigenous elders for endorsement. One of the elders was Uncle Colin Ahoy, the elder in residence at UNE’s Oorala Aboriginal Centre who liked the Riddim and Poetry idea and

160 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

endorsed the program. He also suggested that we contact Minimbah Aboriginal School and enquire about their availability. Following the suggestion from Uncle Colin, we contacted Minimbah School and discussed the possibility of implementing drumming and poetry workshops there. The management of the school was quite positive and agreed to the implementation of Riddim and Poetry workshops. After getting the endorsement from Uncle Colin and permission from Minimbah School, we had a meeting with another Aboriginal elder, Uncle Steve Widders. The meeting focused on the program and how the program could be implemented in relation to the Aboriginal protocol. Uncle Steve stated that he fully supported the project and emphasised mentoring young Indigenous artists into facilitating Riddim and Poetry workshops would be another good idea. Following these productive meetings, the team submitted a funding application to the School of Education at UNE and an ethics clearance application to the UNE Ethics Committee. Both of these applications were successful and two Aboriginal artists were employed as research assistants for the program development and implementation. The Aboriginal research assistants organised meetings with the principal and staff at Minimbah School to inform them about the Riddim and Poetry program and take their ideas about the development and implementation of workshops into consideration. The second step of the PIR was conceptualization. The method we adopted in Riddim and Poetry was inspired by the genre-based pedagogy of the Systemic Functional Linguistics (Martin, 2009; Rose & Martin, 2012; Martin & Rose, 2008), however, the pedagogy was adapted to amalgamate drumming and poem writing to help students create songs. Unlike genre-based pedagogy, Riddim and Poetry aimed to improve students’ creativity through poetry rather than the school genres such as explanation, description, recount or narrative. While the program drew on Vygotsky’s notions of scaffolding and zone of proximal development (Vygotsky, 1978), it also included play as Vygotsky’s other important contribution to understanding child development (Vygotsky, 1967). Since Riddim and Poetry aimed to enable students to work collectively, the Teaching Learning Cycle (Rothery, 1994) needed to be adapted and renamed as the Riddim and Poetry Cycle (RPC). Figure  6.1 presents the RPC.

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

161

Fig. 6.1  Riddim and poetry cyclea

The RPC consists of three stages: deconstruction, joint construction, collective construction, and immediate verbal or non-verbal feedback is central in the cycle. While the first stage focuses on deconstructing e.g., a rhythmic pattern or a model poem; the joint construction stage aims to engage students in playing the deconstructed pattern with a facilitator and writing a poem similar to the deconstructed model. During collective construction stage, the students would form small groups and play drums or work on their poems collectively. This stage is dedicated to thinking about ways to improve what has been created. The RPC was followed in each drumming and poem writing workshop with the aim to expand students’ creativity and help them learn from each other. As the drumming workshops centred on basic four-beat rhythmic patterns; we needed a simple poem to be used as the model text in poetry workshops, so we explored Exley’s communal noun/verb poetry and adapted it (Exley, 2016). Communal noun/verb poem is written collectively to recount an outdoor activity. In Exley’s case, this was a family camping trip. Following the trip, the whole family got together and wrote a poem describing the surroundings and events using only nouns and verbs, such as “cars passing, kangaroos hopping, daddy running”. In our context, we adapted the communal noun/verb poem focusing on native

162 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

Australian animals in order to bring in more cultural elements. We included circumstance, as another language element in addition to noun and verb. Circumstance is a clause constituent that defines the functions of prepositional or adverbial phrases. Adding the circumstance into the mix would bring more context to the poems. We wrote the following simple poem to be used as a model text in poetry workshops. Wombats digging in their burrows Wombats sleeping peacefully Wombats snoring loudly Wombats grazing on the grass

In the wombat poem, all the lines start with wombats and continue with wombats’ daily activities in -ing form. The third language element in each line is the circumstance, which answers the how, when, where, and why. During the deconstruction phase of the RPC, this model poem would be deconstructed by the facilitators by asking questions to the students.

Implementing Drumming and Poem Writing Workshops Once the conceptualisation, development and approval steps of the PIR paradigm were completed, it was time to implement workshops following the RPC. There were two groups at Minimbah school that the program targeted: Year 3/4 (N = 16) and Year 5/6 (N = 24). The older group attended the workshops from 9:30 am until 10:30 am and the younger group attended the later workshop (11  am–12  pm) on Fridays during Term 4. The workshops aimed to prepare students for the End of Year Awards where they would present their songs. In the Riddim and Poetry context, a song refers to students’ short compositions amalgamating various drumming patterns and poems including words or phrases from Aboriginal languages. In order to create songs, the students worked collectively on developing their knowledge and experience in drumming and poem writing.

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

163

Collective Drumming The workshops were held in a classroom where the students sat in chairs organised in a semi-circle, while the facilitator sat in front of the white board facing the students. The drumming part of the workshops started by greeting the students and having a brief casual conversation to build rapport, and then we started with talking about the drums during the deconstruction stage of the workshop cycle. During this stage, the students were provided with information about the three different types of drums: Tubano, Timbau and Djembe and shown the correct sitting position and posture; sitting towards the front of the chair to keep the body in a straight position. Also, the students were told about the various sounds of each drum. After talking about each drum, the workshop moved onto the correct technique to play them. While the correct posture was retained through sitting towards the front of the chair, the arms and shoulders were relaxed, and the arms moved through the elbows without bending the wrists or moving the shoulders. Following these general points, the facilitator presented a basic four-beat rhythmic pattern with simplified drumming notification and explained how to play it in relation to dexterity and tones. This stage formed the joint construction where the facilitator played with the students. During collective construction, the students were placed in small groups with each student having a different type of drum and they were asked to play together. At the beginning, there was some noise in the classroom. However, each group started playing collectively in a harmonious way after a couple of minutes. The students were not instructed about what to play or how to play, but they were told to play together as if they are playing in a band. During each collective construction stage, the students played patterns well above the complexity of the ones they practiced previously. And this was the stage where the magic happened. The students were jumping above their regular behaviour (Vygotsky, 1967). The following drumming workshops followed a similar structure starting with stretching shoulders, arms and hands. The students were reminded the patterns practiced during the previous workshop and introduced to new patterns and fill-ins. The patterns got richer and more colourful each

164 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

week. The collective drumming of the students unleashed their creativity and gave them opportunities to be more creative.

Collective Poem Writing The poetry workshops started with the Wombat poem, which was adapted from Exley’s communal noun/verb poetry (Exley, 2016). The students were asked questions about wombats in order to activate their prior knowledge and prepare them do discuss the poem. Similar to the drumming workshops, the poetry workshops also followed the RPC, so the first stage of the cycle was deconstruction where the facilitator activated the students’ background knowledge and broke the poem into its components. The students were extremely engaged, as wombat is a native Australian animal and has cultural significance for Indigenous peoples. Each line of the wombat poem was studied in detail. The facilitator read the poem first and then focused on each line. The first line “Wombats digging in their borrows” was written on the white board and the students were asked questions that helped them identify the subject: What are digging in their borrows? and other questions to elicit the part of speech: Is that a noun or a verb? Similar questions were asked to help students identify the process and part of speech: What are wombats doing in their borrows?, Is it a noun a verb?, and how do you know it is a verb?. The third part of the first line in their borrows was again elicited from the students: Where are the wombats digging?, the students provided the answer collectively: “In their borrows!”. This manner of eliciting the constituents of the first line of the poem continued with the subsequent lines. Following the deconstruction stage, we moved to the joint construction stage. In joint construction stage, the facilitator and students wrote a poem about another native Australian animal. This selection of the theme animal was done in a democratic way. The students shouted out animal names and the facilitator wrote them on the white board, and then the students were asked to vote on the animal they wanted to write a poem about. The kangaroo had the highest vote, so we started writing a poem about the kangaroo using the structure of the wombat poem. The

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

165

facilitator started with the word kangaroos on the board and asked the questions: Kangaroos doing what? and What are kangaroos doing?. The collective response was: “hopping!”. And the second set of questions followed: Where are they hopping?. From a linguistic perspective, there are four types of circumstance: time, place, manner and cause, and they can be identified by asking the following prompting wh- words: when, where, how and why. During the first cycle employed in the Riddim and Poetry workshops, we focused on circumstance of time, place, and manner leading up to circumstance of cause. The kangaroo poem was finalised jointly by the facilitator and students: Kangaroos jumping in the bush Kangaroos hopping reckless Kangaroos resting in the shade Kangaroos sleeping at night.

The final stage of the cycle was collective construction where the students were put into groups of three or four and were given butcher papers. They brought their drums close to each other and formed a ‘desk’ to write on. The students were given instructions to pick another native Australian animal and write a poem similar to the wombat and kangaroo poems. The following poem was written by one of the groups and it was about the emu. Emu, emu, emu, emu Running through the dusty dessert Trying to fly in the summertime With the butterflies

Working collectively, the students managed to go beyond the model text and included more complex language features in their poem. It was now time to bring it all together; the students were given time to create a song incorporating their poem and the rhythm patterns they practiced earlier. They went well beyond what they have practiced earlier and composed a song matching the syllables to the beat and they presented the song in front of the class. As Riddim and Poetry placed Indigenous

166 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

cultures, knowledges and peoples in the core of the program, it is also possible to identify elements of Aboriginal spirituality in drumming and poem writing workshops. Having developed a spiritual connection through the drumming and poetry program and a sense of cohesion within the students, the groundwork had been laid for the Gumbaynggirr language lessons with their spiritual dimension, which will be discussed in the following section.

 boriginal Spirituality in Gumbaynggirr A Language Lessons Gumbaynggirr language lessons were delivered after the drumming and poem writing workshops, which followed the Riddim and Poetry Cycle; however, the Gumbaynggirr lessons were prepared and implemented by Gawa Micklo, and Gumbaynggirr spirituality guided his thoughts, words and actions. In order to put this into perspective, we will present a yarn (chat) we had about Aboriginal spirituality within the context of the Riddim and Poetry program. The yarn started with Gawa’s expression of what he understands from Aboriginal spirituality in general and specifically Gumbaynggirr spirituality. Following this, we talked about the way he prepared for his lessons at Minimbah School and then watched a few segments from his Gumbaynggirr lessons where he commented on the spiritual and cultural elements within each segment. Our yarn took place in a friendly manner, and this is represented in the following section. Also, we provide in brackets what Gumbaynggirr words and phrases mean, and in some cases complement this with the way they function in English to provide more context. In the following, Devrim refers to the first author and Gawa refers to the second author. Devrim: Giinagay (meaning: acknowledgement of someone’s existence; function: hello), gawa! I will ask you a few questions, but please feel free to expand on them as you see appropriate. What is your understanding of Aboriginal spirituality? Gawa: My understanding of Aboriginal spirituality is that all things are in a relationship with each other. There are relationships between

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

167

people, there are relationships between the land, there are relationships between the spirits. There are relationships between the creators and the whole universe, so we are all in a relationship no matter what it is. For example, Gumbaynggirr people have totems, and they are related to their totems, to their family clan, to their land, and to their ancestorial beings, to their stories and to their songs. Gumbaynggirr people say every part of the universe is connected to the other parts of the universe, so when we do our ceremonies, our spirituality resonates all the way out to the universe. The spirituality of the Gumbaynggirr people is that we are connected with everything. One of our philosophies is to keep the life going and make it better. And the way Gumbaynggirr people did this is through respecting the autonomy of everything and not threatening the existence of anything, because everything has a spirit; the rock, the tree, the water; everything is spiritual in Gumbaynggirr culture. Devrim: Darruy (meaning: good, nice; function: thank you), gawa! What did you think before you came to Armidale? Did you think about what you were going to teach and how you were going to teach? How were your decisions inspired by Gumbaynggirr spirituality and Aboriginal spirituality in general? Gawa: When I was leaving my bari. In Gumbaynggirr, we have a jagun. Jagun is the whole of the Gumbaynggirr homeland. Wajaarr is the ground and bari is the special place that you belong to in the whole of the jagun, the homeland. My bari is Nambucca Heads and that’s my clan area. When I was travelling to Armidale, I knew I was going up to see some Gumbaynggirr people. You know, I left early in the morning and looked to the East it was still very early and the evening star was still out. In Gumbaynggirr, the evening star is gawnggan, our mother; the first woman, so I was travelling from that way to see Gumbaynggirr people and I was leaving my bari. I was making a connection to gawnggan, the evening star. And I was saying to her: Keep me safe, take me to Gumbaynggirr people, I want to share my language, I want to share my knowledge. I want to inspire these young children to learn their language, learn their culture, get their identity and be proud of who they are, be strong people who can rely on mother earth and mother earth takes care of them.

168 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

We don’t own this land. We are custodians of her, we look after her because she looks after us. This is what I want to instil in these young people; if we look after the land, the land will look after us. When I was going out there, I was thinking about the Gumbaynggirr dreaming stories I was going to tell, the songs I was going to teach. Devrim: Did you have a plan for your lessons? Gawa: My plan was all the Gumbaynggirr knowledge and the teaching skills that are inside me. When I get into the presence of the children and look at them, I feel which way to go. There were no classrooms in Aboriginal culture, there was no plan or program either. When we are in country, we just talked about the country, talked about the sacred places, talked about the ocean, talked about the totems. That was what I wanted to do. I wanted to fill them with all this knowledge that I have got in my head. Devrim: That’s beautiful. Do you want to have a look at some videos? Gawa: Ngii (meaning: yes)! Let’s have a look. Video clip 1 context: Gawa and the children are sitting in a circle in their chairs. Gawa is telling a story from his childhood about his encounter with a shark. The story is told in Gumbaynggirr and the children can follow and understand the story. During this extract, Gawa teaches them ngii (yes) and biiway (no) using hand gestures and facial expressions. Gawa: That was the first thing I did, told them the story of the shark. What I did then was to capture their attention. By doing it in language, I wanted them to hear the rhythm and understand my body language. I wanted to get their attention first and get them curious about language. Devrim: What was the story about? Gawa: It’s a made-up, gammin story. It is about me swimming in the ocean with my cousin and getting bitten by a shark. When I tapped on my leg brace and the children thought it was a wooden leg. This makes the story very real. Also, I have got a shark tattoo on my arm which is one of my totems on my father’s side. In our culture, if you are totem of the shark then you are related to the shark. That is your relative and you do not harm the shark in any way. This is spiritual connection between the shark and humans. That’s our totem. Also, sitting in a circle like that is also a part of tradition as well. Everybody is enjoying themselves and you

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

169

are not targeting one person and singling them out. That was to get their attention. Devrim: This is a beautiful example of how Aboriginal spirituality inspires children. Darruy, gawa! Thank you. Let’s have a look at the second clip. Video clip 2 context: Gawa and the children are sitting in their chairs in a circle. Gawa is singing a Gumbaynggirr song keeping the beat clapping his hands. Gawa: That song was to get them to the rhythm and sounds of Gumbaynggirr. Because, when we speak, we speak like rhythm, like when we are talking. You speak in rhythm. When you sing, it’s all so in rhythm, singing songs I does something with your brain. You remember the rhythm of the song more when you sing it. When I start singing: bindarray jurriiyay waarri gaagalgu, bindarray jurriiyay waarri gaagalgu (singing), so I sang that song I can actually say it, because I know the song: the river flows down to the ocean, so singing the song also they can hear it and remember it better with songs and rhythm. That’s why I was clapping. That’s the rhythm as well (clapping). You know it activates something in their little brains where they can take it on and remember it, it is something about the sounds. Devrim: Beautiful. Thank you. And you had the other song. I don’t remember the words, but it was something like that (humming). Gawa: Ha, nagarrambi guunyjumbi. That was the traditional song, it got only four words in it. Nagarrambi guunyjumbi and then you use hand movements with it. You know, so you can hear the words and the rhythm, but you use the hand nagarrambi guunyjumbi, nagarrambi guunyjumbi ngaarri ngaarri la. You know our communication with each other has lots of body language you know in our communication we use lots of facial expressions, lots of hand movements, lots of where we sit, where we’re looking and stuff like that. So, you know, using the hand movements, the facial expressions, and the sounds and the rhythm, that all gets into their little brain. And all joins together. Devrim: What do the words say in this traditional song? Gawa: Nagarr is your chest, ambi is across the chest of a mountain, guunyju is valley, guunyjumbi down the valley, ngaarri is play, ngaarri

170 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

ngaarri la is let’s play. Walking across the chest of a mountain, down the valley, let’s play. Video clip 3 context: Gawa and the children are sitting in their chairs in a circle. Gawa is teaching the children three Gumbaynggirr words. He asks them to repeat and the children do. He explains the meanings of these words using body language only, the children get the meanings and pronounce the words correctly. Gawa: Miimi, nyirrnaa, gaagal nyirrnaa. It is an idea of what’s effective in the way I teach this language. My body language is really important as well for the children. Gaagal is our spiritual totem, of Gumbaynggirr people. Gaagal is the totem of all Gumbaynggirr people: the ocean. To us the ocean is our energy, our life. That gives us our energy and our life. And miimi is mother, you know. Miimi is mother who also gives life to us. And nyirrnaa: they are both beautiful. Miimi, nyirrnaa, gaagal nyirrnaa. This is a little bit of cultural stuff coming into them to show respect for their totem and for the mothers. Devrim: Beautiful. Thanks, gawa! Gawa: Ngii (meaning: yes, function: no worries)! Devrim: Let’s move on to the next one. Video clip 4 context: Gawa is sitting in a circle with the children. He has props (animals) and is putting the animals in the box. While he is talking about the animals, he asks intonation questions to the children in Gumbaynggirr and affirms their answers using ngii and biiway. The children look extremely motivated and race to answer Gawa’s questions. The students give answers in English, but Gawa does not speak a word of English. Gawa: You can see children with a little short attention span. Every now and then, you’ve really got to switch from one activity to another activity or the activity you are doing, you are playing with that activity you are doing so they are not getting in a trance sort of thing; you know what I mean. You just focus on one thing. Devrim: So, you were using the props to teach them verbs. Gawa: Yes, waru maana waanyji: I pick up the dog, ngaaja muuga waanyji bili-bagula: I put the dog in the box. I named these nouns first and then the verbs. With these props, the children connected the sound to the prop. Waanyji is the sound that goes with dog. Bili-bagula that go with box, nunguu is the sound that goes with kangaroo. And they can see

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

171

that. They can watch me play with that thing and say the words. With the prop, the sounds and the actions they put it all together. That rhythm again: waru maana waanyji, ngaaja muuga waanyji bili-bagula, it is like duh duh duh duh… It’s the rhythm. Devrim: Beautiful. Thanks, gawa. Let’s have a look at the last clip. Gawa: Ngii! Video clip 5 context: Gawa and children are standing up scattered around the classroom. This clip is a short segment from the last activity in this sequence where children play heads and shoulders knees and toes in Gumbaynggirr. Gawa: Again, gross motor skills. If you are sitting them too much, their bodies need to move, and these kids have got lots of energy. Using language with growth body movement is another good way to connect the language, words with the body movements, and make it fun. You know I go around in that classroom walking around the classroom, revving them up, making them really nice and fun for all the kids, and some of the adults were doing it as well, so fun is another way of teaching language. Devrim: Darruy, gawa! Do you want to add anything else that you remember from the Armidale experience or in relation to Gumbaynggirr spirituality? Gawa: Teaching Gumbaynggirr and telling stories is one of the best ways to learn and retain the Gumbaynggirr language and culture. But for me, when I’m doing it I am connecting to my land, I’m connecting to my spirits, connecting to the creators and my ancestors. Keeping not only the language and the stories alive but keeping the land and all the creatures and all the sites that are alive as well. As I said before, every part of the universe is connected to the other parts of the universe. And when you sing, when you make sounds, these sounds resonate all the way. Because everything is alive, when you sing to the wind, rain or sand; they can hear. And the old people knew how to speak to the spirits, they knew how to talk to the elements, and they had these special sacred places they went to talk to the elements, talk to the spirits and do their ceremonies. Learning all this makes me grow as a man, as a Gumbaynggirr man and helps me keep my culture alive so that I can pass on all I’ve got inside me.

172 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

But I’m still learning myself, gaining knowledge as well. So, we’ll never stop learning. We are lifelong learners. Devrim: Absolutely. How important is what you are doing in Aboriginal schools and what needs to be done? Gawa: What needs to be done is more community language learning, maybe at TAFE, at Muurrbay Aboriginal Language and Culture Co-operative, building up the capacity of the general public in language and culture, and getting those guys trained. Some of these guys want to go on and teach language and culture, have a pathway to university or a pathway to TAFE, and then get them qualified where they can go into teach the language and culture, the Gumbaynggirr language and culture. Hopefully, they will come out of their schools and become language and culture teachers. I taught a couple of guys in kindergarten who are now still training to be teachers to go to schools, they will be Gumbaynggirr educators. It is very important that we train Aboriginal people in their language and culture and ensure that they are qualified to go to schools. Devrim: Darruywumba (meaning: very good; function: thank you very much)! Thanks a lot, gawa! Gawa: Ngii!

Conclusion This chapter documented the design and implementation of a school program that aimed to unleash Aboriginal school children’s creativity through drumming and poem writing. The program, Riddim and Poetry, prepared the ground for motivating the children for Gumbaynggirr language lessons, which were implemented by Uncle Michael Jarrett. In other words, the Gumbaynggirr language program was built on the motivation established by drumming and poem writing workshops, and drew on Aboriginal spirituality. The Riddim and Poetry program was funded by the University of New England and implemented in Armidale’s Minimbah Aboriginal School. Riddim and Poetry followed the Participatory Indigenist Research paradigm placing Indigenous cultures, knowledges and peoples in the heart of the program (Evans et al., 2014). Therefore, it is an example for CRP

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

173

(Gay, 1994; Ladson-Billings, 1995), as the design of the program was finalised based on the views of Indigenous elders and the staff at Minimbah Aboriginal School. This was crucial in creating a culturally responsive program, as Indigenous knowledges guided the program design and implementation similar to the research studies and programs conducted in the Australian context (Guyula, 2010; Yunkaporta & McGinty, 2009; Osborne & Guenther, 2013; Rioux et al., 2017; McCarthy, 2010). The recent CRP related research conducted in regard to mathematical knowledge highlights the distinct ways of Indigenous reasoning, which should inform school curricula (Treacy et al., 2014; Ewing, 2014; Ewing, 2012; Rigney et  al., 2020). The inclusion of Indigenous reasoning in mathematics instruction increases engagement and creativity according to these studies. Similarly, Riddim and Poetry assisted students to become more engaged with school, and the conceptualisation of creativity as a collective process allowed the children to go beyond what they would create individually. Furthermore, the Gumbaynggirr language program that followed drumming and poem writing workshops also had extraordinary positive effects on students’ engagement and creativity, as Gawa Micklo emphasises there is an inseparable relationship between Aboriginal spirituality and Aboriginal languages. Therefore, the school programs that are designed and implemented prioritising Aboriginal knowledges, spirituality and languages should be promoted within the Australian education system. While the schools diversify their course offerings with such programs, the Aboriginal language teaching programs should proliferate within the communities. Institutions such as TAFE, Aboriginal language and culture centres as well as universities’ adult education centres should offer Aboriginal language courses to the public and train more language ambassadors and teachers. These kind of public, independent or private initiatives are some of the vital tools we have in order to protect, maintain and share Indigenous knowledges, languages and spirituality.

174 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

References Alaska Native Knowledge Network. (1998). Alaska Standards for Culturally Responsive Schools (Adopted by the Assembly of Alaska Native Educators). http://www.ankn.uaf.edu/publications/standards.html Atweme, D. (2014). Forecast Social Return on Investment  – Full Report. Tangentyere Council. https://www.niaa.gov.au/sites/default/files/publications/indigenous/Drum-­Atweme/pdf/Drum_Atweme_Forecast_SROI_ Report_PDF.pdf Bishop, R., Berryman, M., Cavanagh, T., & Teddy, L. (2007). Te Kōtahitanga (phase 3) Whanaungatanga: Establishing a Culturally Responsive Pedagogy of Relations in Mainstream Secondary School Classrooms. Report to the Ministry of Education. Bradley, C. A. (2011). Spirituality and Language Education: An Introduction. Journal of the Faculty of Global Communication, University of Nagasaki, 12, 1–10. Castagno, A. E., & Brayboy, B. M. J. (2008). Culturally Responsive Schooling for Indigenous Youth: A Review of the Literature. Review of Educational Research, 78, 941–993. Christensen, L., & Watson, D. (2015). Rhythm and Resistance: Teaching Poetry for Social Justice. Rethinking Schools. Evans, M., Miller, A., Hutchinson, P., & Dingwall, C. (2014). De-colonizing Research Practice: Indigenous Methodologies, Aboriginal Methods, and Knowledge/Knowing. In P.  Leavy (Ed.), Oxford Handbook of Qualitative Research (pp. 179–191). Oxford University Press. Ewing, B. (2012). Mathematics Funds of Knowledge: Sotmaute and Sermaute Fish in a Torres Strait Islander Community. Australian Journal of Adult Learning, 52, 134–152. Ewing, B. (2014). Rich and Purposeful Mathematical Knowledge of Mothers and Children in a Torres Strait Islander Community. Springerplus, 3, 42. Exley, B. (2016). Communal Noun/Verb Poem. In J. Aquilina (Ed.), Tadpoles in the Torrens: Poems for Young Readers (p. 103). Wakefield Press. Gay, G. (1994). Coming of Age Ethnically: Teaching Young Adolescents of Color. Theory Into Practice, 33, 149–155. Gay, G. (2000). Culturally Responsive Teaching: Theory, Research, and Practice. Teachers College Press. Gay, G. (2002). Preparing for Culturally Responsive Teaching. Journal of Teacher Education, 53, 106–116.

6  Aboriginal Language and Spirituality Within the Context… 

175

Guyula, Y. (2010). The Story Comes Along, and the Children are Taught. Learning Communities, 2, 18–22. Ladson-Billings, G. (1995). But That’s Just Good Teaching! The Case for Culturally Relevant Pedagogy. Theory Into Practice, 34, 159–165. Lewthwaite, B.  E., & McMillan, B. (2010). ‘She Can Bother me, and that’s Because she Cares’: What Inuit Students Say About Teaching and Their Learning. Canadian Journal of Education, 33, 140–175. Martin, J.  R. (2009). Genres and Language Learning: A Social Semiotic Perspective. Linguistics and Education, 20, 10–21. Martin, J. R., & Rose, D. (2008). Genre Relations: Mapping Culture. Equinox. McCarthy, H. (2010). Backboards to Blackboards: Rebounding from the Margins; A Critical Auto/Ethnographic Study of the Struggle for Culturally-Sensitive Educational Pathways for Aboriginal Girls, Unpublished PhD thesis, Curtin University. Nicol, C., Archibald, J.-A., & Baker, J. (2010). Investigating Culturally Responsive Mathematics Education: Report to the Canadian Council on Learning. University of British Columbia. Osborne, S., & Guenther, J. (2013). Red Dirt Thinking on Aspiration and Success. Australian Journal of Indigenous Education, 42, 88–99. Rigney, L., Garrett, R., Curry, M., & MacGill, B. (2020). Culturally Responsive Pedagogy and Mathematics Through Creative and Body-Based Learning: Urban Aboriginal Schooling. Education and Urban Society, 52, 1159–1180. Rigney, L.-I. (1997). Internationalisation of an Indigenous Anti-Colonial Cultural Critique of Research Methodologies. A Guide to Indigenist Research Methodology and its Principles. In HERDSA (Ed.), Proceeding of the Annual HERDSA Conference: Research and Development in Higher Education: Advancing International Perspectives (pp.  629–636). Higher Education Research and Development Society of Australasia. Rigney, L.-I. (1999). Internationalisation of an Indigenous Anticolonial Cultural Critique of Research Methodologies: A Guide to Indigenist Research Methodology and its Principles. Wicazo Sa Review, 14, 109–121. Rioux, J., Ewing, B., & Coope, T. J. (2017). Embedding Aboriginal Perspectives and Knowledge in the Biology Curriculum: The Little Porky. Australian Journal of Indigenous Education, 47, 158–170. Rose, D., & Martin, J. R. (2012). Learning to Write/Reading to Learn: Genre, Knowledge and Pedagogy in the Sydney School. Equinox. Rothery, J. (1994). Exploring Literacy in School English: Write it Right Resources for Literacy and Learning. Metropolitan East Disadvantaged Schools Program.

176 

D. Yilmaz and M. Jarrett

Treacy, K., Frid, S., & Jacob, L. (2014). Starting Points and Pathways in Aboriginal Students’ Learning of Number: Recognising Different World Views. Mathematics Education Research Journal, 27, 263–281. Vygotsky, L. (1967). Play and its Role in the Mental Development of the Child. Soviet Psychology, 5, 6–18. Vygotsky, L. (1978). Mind in Society: The Development of Higher Psychological Processes. Harvard University Press. Yob, I. M. (2010). Why Is Music a Language of Spirituality? Philosophy of Music Education Review, 18, 145–151. Yunkaporta, T., & McGinty, S. (2009). Reclaiming Aboriginal Knowledge at the Cultural Interface. The Australian Educational Researcher, 36, 55–72.

7 Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central Australia David Moore

Introduction The Alice Springs Lutheran Church is an unusual multilingual congregation in Australia as it is situated in a nation which is comprised largely (around 70 per cent) of monolingual English speakers. In Australia government and the mainstream media are dominated by monolinguals and by a popular discourse which claims that Australia is a monolingual nation. The Northern Territory in which 30% of the population is Aboriginal and speakers of Central Australian Aboriginal languages make up the majority of the Alice Springs congregation. Aboriginal languages are recognised in the church’s worship. The Alice Springs church alternates liturgy and hymns in Arrarnta and two languages of the Western Desert: Luritja and Pitjantjatjara. The congregation hears Bible readings in any of six languages, as announced in the weekly bulletin. Teaching occurs in Aboriginal languages at a multilingual Bible Study and women’s

D. Moore (*) University of Western Australia, Perth, WA, Australia © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_7

177

178 

D. Moore

camps. The foundation stone of multi-coloured conglomerate rock in the picture represents the diversity of the Alice Springs congregation, which was established a decade before the policy of multiculturalism was adopted in Australia. Relha Ntjaara, Mparrka Nyinta ‘Many members, one body’ from the Western Arrarnta language is a quote from the New Testament book of 1 Corinthians 12:12 which indicates that Christ’s body consists of diverse members (Fig. 7.1). Quote from Arrarnta Bible Mpurrka era kunha ingkakarta, iltjakarta, alkngakartalka nama. Mpurrka era pula nyinta kutala nama. Lakinha ngerra turta Kristaka mpurrka, worlamparinya era.

Fig. 7.1  The foundation stone of multi-coloured conglomerate rock representing the diversity of the Alice Springs congregation

7  Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central… 

179

Literally: For a body has feets, hands and eyes. It is one. Just like that Christ’s body is one, the congregation. For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. (1 Corinthians 12:12)

The metaphor of a body as a group of people is not natural for the Arrarnta language but is reflected in the English language in such words as ‘corporation’. As there is no generic word for ‘member’ or ‘part’ this is translated, spelling out all the parts of the body. The translation of such terms required creativity and flexibility on the part of the translators. The church in Central Australia was started by South Australian Lutherans with a distinctively German heritage. The connection between Australian German Lutherans and Central Australian Aboriginal language speakers can be traced to the foundation of the Hermannsburg mission station at Ntaria, 125 kilometres west of Alice Springs in 1877, by missionaries from Hermannsburg in North Germany. This paper explores the heritage of Lutheran engagement in translation and the impact of that heritage for congregational life in the multilingual worship in the current Alice Springs Lutheran Church and the ways in which Aboriginal languages are used by the congregation.

Outline Firstly, I trace the language ideologies of Lutheranism and Pietism, which encouraged and fostered the use of vernacular languages. These became a feature of the Australian Lutheran VELKA synod. I explore the changing language use of the German communities on the centenary of the arrival of the first German migrants in South Australia and the foundation of the colony of South Australia. Secondly, I trace the history of the Old Lutheran Church building (henceforth: Old Church) (Fig. 7.2) from 1938 when the Old Church was built as a gathering place for the Aboriginal congregation in Alice Springs. Then, I trace the movement of the Mission to other parts of Central Australia by Aboriginal evangelists who used Aranda as a lingua franca but

180 

D. Moore

Fig. 7.2  The Old Lutheran Church in Alice Springs

lived in regions where the population spoke another language. I particularly focus on specific minority languages, their speakers and their current status. In conclusion, I will discuss the Old Church in its role of conserving history and heritage combined with reflections on the complexities of language and the potential of language to bring understanding and solidarity to unite people of diverse backgrounds in a single community of faith.

Language Background The languages of the liturgy and worship in Alice Springs church includes Arrarnta along with English. The New Testament and liturgy were translated into Arrarnta by successive generations of Arrarnta speakers working with missionary translators at Ntaria, home of the Hermannsburg mission. Evangelists from Ntaria travelled to other language groups living in remote

7  Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central… 

181

locations with the Christian message and founded congregations far from the mission station. The Lutheran Diaspora now includes congregations from all over Central Australia, from Kiwirrkura in Western Australia to outstations along the Sandover River. The number of languages mentioned officially understates the overall language use and diversity of the Alice Springs congregation. Languages such as Pertame and Kaytetye (discussed later) are also spoken amongst the congregations, and show that the church’s language profile extends to a greater number of languages. Three spellings are used here: ‘Arrarnta’ is the accepted spelling for ‘Western Arrarnta’. Central and Eastern ‘Arrernte’. The word ‘Aranda’ refers to an earlier spelling used by the Hermannsburg Mission and applied to earlier sources.

History The Hermannsburg mission was materially supported by Lutheran congregations such as Bethany, the village in the Barossa Valley in South Australia from where the missionaries departed in 1875. Most Australian Lutherans originated from Prussia and particularly from the region of Silesia, migrating to Australia from the late 1830s to the 1850s before the German states united to form the nation of Germany. Their early settlements in South Australia were noted for their ‘Germanness’ as Hebart observed, and this was evident even when he was writing, a century after the settlements were formed (Hebart, 1938). Villages and towns of the Barossa Valley, Adelaide Hills, mid-north, Riverland and Yorke Peninsula contained large numbers of people whose first language was German. The Lutheran Church in Australia remained a predominantly German church for seven decades (Hebart, 1938, p. 242). The diversity of Germans included Low Germans who spoke Plattdeutsch (Hebart, 1938, p. 242). There were also many speakers of Sorbian languages, small and endangered Slavic languages of the states of Prussia and Saxony (Kupke, 2019). Many of these South Australian families and congregations supported the Hermannsburg Mission in Central Australia for generations. Lutheran missionaries took responsibility for the safety of Aboriginal people at the frontier, shielding them from frontier violence.

182 

D. Moore

Hermannsburg became a haven from extra-judicial killings, which took the lives of many Aboriginal people in the ‘settled’ districts. The South Australian authorities appear to have done little to stop these killings. In 1891 the Evangelical Lutheran South Australian Synod left Hermannsburg over doctrinal issues of church ‘unionism’. The Hermannsburg mission station fell into a state of disorder (Leske, 1977). By 1892, the station had been sold to the Immanuel Synod and was being supported by a small number of congregations which were located primarily in rural areas. Carl Strehlow was trained by the Neuendettelsau Mission Society of Franconia, Germany and became the first missionary of the Immanuel Synod. He arrived at Hermannsburg Mission in Central Australia in 1894. The Hermannsburg Mission in Australia became known as the Finke River Mission (FRM). Hermannsburg survived attempts to close it down and from the problems of official neglect and remoteness (Leske, 1977). Learning Aboriginal languages became the priority for the missionaries. Their dedication to Aboriginal languages contrasts with other missions of Central Australia in which missionaries conducted worship entirely in English and discouraged others from translating the Bible (Rademaker, 2018; Swartz, 2020). Receptivity to languages and preparedness to learn them were part of this heritage and is explained in the next section.

Language Ideologies Language ideologies derive from the Reformation and many projects of missionary translation (Moore, 2015). Firstly, Lutheranism involved the translation of the Bible and Luther’s Catechism into vernacular languages and created the foundation for the translation of the Bible into the languages of the world. The Lutheran revival movement of Pietism reinforced and extended the impulse towards translation. Pietists were outward-looking, mission-oriented and engaged in holistic applied faith. They sent missionaries as part of their dedication to spreading the Christian gospel (Midena, 2018). The town of Halle in particular was at the forefront of mission and Bible translation, a ‘provincial stronghold of Pietism’ (Clark, 2006). Halle was Prussia’s foremost university, founded in the late

7  Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central… 

183

seventeenth century and highly influential in the history of Prussia, which became the leading state in the unified Germany. Specific ‘language ideologies’ emerged from Germany in the nineteenth century and are often associated with JG Herder (Peterson & Kenny, 2017, p. 3). He was reared in a pietist environment in Königsberg in East Prussia, in close proximity to a diversity of other languages, particularly Slavic and Baltic languages. He acquired an interest in the diversity of the world’s languages and cultures through his faith background, which exposed him to other languages and cultures. His concern for authenticity through understanding the outlook and mentality of a people ‘Volksgeist’ was transmitted to the next generation of German language philosophers who shaped the disciplines of linguistics and cultural anthropology which would flower in Germany and the United States in the late nineteenth century, extending the engagement into ‘foreign’ languages far beyond the familiar European languages (Forster, 2010). Although Herder’s writings were not widely read or taught in the mission institute to mission candidates, missionary linguistics was part of this extension as it was missionaries who travelled furthest in their quest to take the Christian message ‘to the farthest ends of the earth’.

The Multilingual VELKA and Its Languages The language ideologies of the German philosophy of language were evident in the work of the Neuendettelsau Mission Society which sent missionaries to support the Australian Immanuel Synod, the body which ran mission stations in remote Australia. The Immanuel Synod was based in rural Point Pass in South Australia where a secondary school was established by Pastor Leidig in the late nineteenth century. Pastors were trained in Germany until 1921 when the Immanuel Synod founded its own seminary for the training of Australian pastors in Adelaide. Die Vereinigte Evangelisch Lutherische Kirche in Australien (VELKA), or in English, the United Evangelical Lutheran Church in Australia (UELCA) was founded in 1921 and described by Hebart in his 1938 work which was published in both German and English. The VELKA had closer ties to Germany than the other Australian Lutheran synod, the Evangelical Lutheran Synod. As

184 

D. Moore

speakers of minority language varieties in Australia, German Lutherans understood that different languages are used in different contexts. They were running missions in Australia and New Guinea and experiencing an influx of migrants from Northern Europe which increased dramatically after the Second World War. Following a request from the Lutheran World Federation to the Sydney congregation to look after them, Pastor Gielow cared for the Estonian congregation (Hebart, 1938, pp. 155–156). German immigrants who moved to Central Australia included staff at Hermannsburg such as FW Albrecht and Gerhard (Garry) Stoll. Hebart stated that the Lutheran Church was the most polyglot and that the Lutheran Catechism had been translated into one hundred and forty five languages (Hebart, 1938, p. 245). He outlines its language policy: ‘The UELCA is prepared to preach Jesus Christ, the power of God, and the wisdom of God in whatever language required. This is clearly demonstrated by the fact that the Word of God is preached by the UELCA not only in German and English, but also in Esthonian, and, including the native languages, altogether in six languages’. (Hebart, 1938, p. 138) The Australian languages which Hebart referred to were Aranda and Koko Yimidir (Guugu Yimidhirr). (Hebart, 1938, p. 335)

Concern for authenticity through the use of vernacular languages can be seen at Hermannsburg where Aranda literacy was taught in the school. Few words appear to have been borrowed from German into Aranda. A German word which is still current and appears in church bulletins is danke ‘to thank’, which has become dangkelima, a word for which there was no precise equivalent in Aranda. The word was adopted because of the perceived need to express thanks with a specific word. It is not usual to express thanks in this manner in Central Australian languages but developed as an interlanguage. Another example is ‘Jesua’ which is pronounced with the initial ‘y’ sound of German and other Central and Northern European languages. As many students became literate in Aranda, a large number of Aranda letters were written throughout the twentieth century. The use of the Aranda language was encouraged at the Hermannsburg School and teachers were encouraged to learn the language (Leske, 1977, p. 94).

7  Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central… 

185

Hermannsburg inspired the policy of Bilingual Education in the Northern Territory which began under the Whitlam government in 1973. The Education Minister, Kim Beasley Senior, toured Northern Territory schools impressed to see students learning in their Aranda language at Hermannsburg. He considered that vernacular literacy was the best route to the mastery of English (Devlin, 2017, p. 14). The UELCA ceased to exist in 1966 with the joining of the two Lutheran Synods to form the Lutheran Church of Australia, which assumed control of missions.

Language Research The study of the Aranda language began with the arrival of the first missionaries in 1877. Initially, the Hermannsburg missionaries struggled to understand the languages and cultures of Central Australian Aboriginal peoples. Aranda elder Hermann Malbunka said that they sought to ekngarrpunhilitjika tjaia etnakana-urna ‘change them to their way’ (Perkins, 2008). They failed to find local equivalents and key terms which were important for Lutheran theology (Moore, 2015). The Hermannsburg missionary Kempe wrote a grammar and dictionary of Aranda before the ELSA synod withdrew its support from Hermannsburg. In the years after his arrival at Hermannsburg, Carl Strehlow replaced the loanwords in Kempe’s 1891 hymnbook translation with words of Aranda origin. With an improved understanding of Aranda grammar, he translated the New Testament between 1913 and 1919. Strehlow developed sympathy with Aboriginal people, and an intimate knowledge of their languages and customs, gained on country, in their homelands through his many relationships with Aboriginal people. This led him to assess Aboriginal culture and languages favourably. Neuendettelsau missionaries were strongly involved in recording texts of language and mythology from Australia and New Guinea. Carl Strehlow from Neuendettelsau went far beyond his predecessors, publishing Die Aranda, a work of linguistics and mythology in seven volumes (Strehlow, 1907–1920). His premature death at Horseshoe Bend in October 1922 meant that his multilingual dictionary, grammars and New Testament were not published (Kenny, 2013). In the

186 

D. Moore

next generation, his son TGH Strehlow researched the language, built upon the missionary foundations and eventually went beyond the missionaries, making a comprehensive deposit of language, mythology and songs. This forms the basis of the collections which are now housed at the Strehlow Research Centre in Alice Springs. He published the works that his father was unable to publish, greatly enhanced through an understanding of phonetics, which TGH Strehlow gained through his studies at Adelaide University, and a familiarity with word meanings and culture gained through a lifelong association with Aboriginal people. Strehlow had also travelled far more widely in Central Australia than his missionary predecessors, attended ceremonies and gained an appreciation of the link between Aboriginal people, languages and land, which culminated in his own landmark Songs of Central Australia (Strehlow, 1971). Strehlow made seminal contributions to forensic linguistics and the scholarship of Aboriginal Englishes (Eades, 2013). His thorough understanding of Aranda and other Central Australian languages were built upon the foundation of missionary linguistics. Both Carl and TGH Strehlow were leading protagonists in the arguments against social evolutionary notions of ‘primitive languages’, as their first-hand knowledge of those languages put them in a privileged position to inform the public about them.

 art 2: The Alice Springs Church History P of the Old Church The Old Church building was used for congregational worship for thirty years from 1938 during which time Alice Springs Lutheran was predominantly a congregation of Aboriginal people who were living in the town. Pastor Friedrich Wilhelm Albrecht (1894–1984) was the founder of the Alice Springs Lutheran congregation, becoming the ‘first Lutheran missionary/pastor to be stationed in Alice Springs’ (Albrecht, 2002). Albrecht was born in Planawice in Poland in 1894, and grew up in Kroczyn in eastern Poland. His family were relocated to Siberia in the far east of Russia. Albrecht joined the medical corps in the First World War and worked as an interpreter because of his familiarity with Russian (Henson, 1992). He studied at the mission institute at Hermannsburg, north of

7  Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central… 

187

Hannover. In 1926 Albrecht travelled to Australia to work at the Hermannsburg Mission. For his background ‘religious faith was an essential influence: a Lutheranism, strongly influenced by pietism which emphasized obedience to God in all aspects of daily life; a personal devotional life nourished by Bible reading and prayer and the strong imperative to bring the Christian Gospel to every race and person’ (Henson, 1992, p. 3). A holistic and applied faith was combined with humility and empathy (Henson, 1992, p. 249). Albrecht made major contributions to Central Australian communities which ensured the survival of the mission and its inhabitants during severe droughts and the migration of Luritja people from the west (Leske, 1977). He sought not only to preach and teach but to provide the means to sustain Aboriginal people in their familiar surroundings, securing their physical and cultural safety. Challenging the Mission Board chairman, he took the view that ‘you have to deal with the whole person. You can’t separate body and soul’ (Henson, 1992, p. 116). Albrecht worked with other missionaries to develop the Central Reserve in remote Central Australia as a haven for Aboriginal people living traditional lives, which were being encroached by pastoralism. He made extensive efforts to provide employment and to create industries in an environment where economic opportunities were very limited. FRM had purchased leasehold land on Gap Road (Albrecht, 2002, p. 19). The Aborigines’ Friends’ Association asked the Finke River Mission to take over its work which their itinerant missionary Kramer had carried out between 1918 and 1934. When Kramer retired to the south, Albrecht effectively took over the work. Albrecht had an open and engaging approach to language use which may have stemmed from his own experience of multilingualism. He conducted worship in Aranda, running confirmation and baptism classes in Aranda (Henson, 1992, p. 187). He disagreed with Kramer who ‘had often said there were too many Aboriginal languages around town to preach in one’ (Henson, 1992, p. 93). Preaching in Aranda was better understood than English, and ‘several old people expressed their pleasure at being able to understand him’ (Henson, 1992, p. 93). Alice Springs is Arrernte country and from the perspective of the Central Arrernte traditional owners of Mparntwe (Alice Springs) his attitude was respectful. For Albrecht, it was not enough that mission staff had a Christian faith as

188 

D. Moore

‘it was virtually essential that they master Aranda’ (Henson, 1992, p. 124). He also wrote letters in Aranda and there is an extensive correspondence between him and Aranda speakers. While Albrecht spoke and wrote Aranda fluently, his concentration on the development of the physical infrastructure and industries of the Mission left little time for language research and he was fortunate that Strehlow was researching the language, customs and cultures of Aranda people. Albrecht supported TGH Strehlow’s revision and publication of the Aranda New Testament.

The Old Church Pastor Albrecht had been holding church services under a red gum tree in the dry bed of the Todd River in Alice Springs. This was physically taxing for him. He tried to rest there but was disturbed by ants and the camp dogs. He wrote to Riedel, Chairman of the Mission Board requesting a building for his own use and to use for the congregation. His request was answered by a member of a congregation in South Australia. Ernst Adolph August Materne (1878–1948) was the first generation of his family to be born in Australia. August was born at Greenock in South Australia, the eighth child of Wilhelm and Helene Materne who had migrated from Silesia in 1858. In 1938 August and Hulda heard about Albrecht’s need for a new building from their son Erhard’s trip to Central Australia (Henson, 1992, p. 121). Out of thankfulness to God for August’s recovery from a recent illness they donated a new church building and a goods shed in Alice Springs (Materne et al., 1978). The church was dedicated with a procession (Henson, 1992). The establishment of these buildings ‘provided the FRM with a base in Alice Springs for the first time since the founding of the mission at Hermannsburg’ (Albrecht, 2002, p. 19). As Albrecht notes this base ‘proved crucial’ for the expansion of the mission to the west of Hermannsburg and also when the mission ‘later expanded its activity to include surrounding cattle stations’. The Old Church was used for congregational worship from 1938 to 1967 when the congregation moved to a new church building. In 1973 the Alice Springs congregation became independent of the Finke River Mission (Leske, 1977, p. 110). The Old

7  Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central… 

189

Church was used as a storeroom until 2002 when a committee was formed to manage the archive of the Lutheran Church of Alice Springs. In recent years, Aboriginal languages have been taught at the Old Church. In 2020 a course was run in Pitjantjatjara by Lorna Wilson. Lorna Wilson had been confirmed in the Old Church and offered to teach Pitjantjantjara there in order to facilitate understanding and unity in the congregation. This history highlights the deep attachment which many Aboriginal people feel for this heritage building, their attachment to the Lutheran Church, and their identity as Lutherans.

Internments and Persecution During the Second World War, the UELCA’s proximity to German culture left it vulnerable to persecution and none more so than the Finke River Mission Board and Johannes Stolz, the leader of the UELCA. The synod which was doing the most to protect and support Aboriginal existence and the one which was most concerned with Aboriginal languages was most attacked by Australian security authorities. This can be seen from the experience of Johann Ernst Materne, the son of August and Hulda Materne who are mentioned above. Ernst Materne was born in 1902. He trained as a Lutheran minister at Immanuel College in Point Pass. He then trained at Wartburg Seminary at Tanunda and Immanuel Seminary in North Adelaide. Materne was ordained at Nain by JP Loehe and served as pastor at Point Pass from 1934 (Materne et al., 1978, p. 61). He baptized, confirmed, married and buried members of the community. As a local and related to those in neighbouring Brownlow where his mother’s family lived, Materne was a ‘farm boy’ who fitted in very well with the community where he had grown up and been educated (Audrey Schmeiss, p.c.). Ernst Materne was interned during the Second World War, accused of communicating with his relatives in Germany (Rosalie Richards, p.c.), Hearsay and rumours led to an extrajudicial process which was neither transparent nor just. For Lutherans of the UELCA, pastors were highly respected figures in the community. The internment of their pastor caused deep angst within the German communities as their leaders came under suspicion. The

190 

D. Moore

persecution of Germans during the wars deepened divisions and led to the alienation of Germans from the wider South Australian community. There was a sense of loss and of despair for many of those whose trusted leaders were accused of crimes against the country to which their forebears had migrated. There was a deep sense of shame felt by the Lutheran congregations (Rosalie Richards, p.c.) so this arrest and internment was not discussed, except within the family. Materne et al. (1978, p. 31) himself asserted that the family had ‘led a peaceful happy life here in Australia’. The persecution occurred at the time when German language was being lost in many parts of South Australia. By the 1980s multicultural Australia had emphasized diversity and encouraged ‘people to be proud of their cultural heritage’ (Schulz, 1987). Recently there have been moves by German descendants to recover the language of their families.

Part 3: Changes During Albrecht’s time serving the church in Alice Springs, he continued to support the work of Lutheran evangelists from there as they travelled to Jay Creek, Henbury and further afield to other cattle stations in Central Australia. He also commenced regular English language services for English speakers in Alice Springs (Albrecht, 2002, p. 31). In the 1960s changes in Australian society began to occur, in particular the involvement of the government in providing social services, which had formerly been delivered by missions. FRM began withdrawing from the provision of services to Aboriginal people, the ‘beginning of the end of our involvement in activities for which the Church has no commission’ (Albrecht, 2002, p. 91). The Finke River Mission began to focus upon the spiritual work of preaching and teaching through the work of Aboriginal pastors and evangelists. The first Aboriginal pastors were ordained in 1964 as ‘the first Aboriginals ordained to be pastors to their own people by any of the mainstream churches’ (Leske, 1977, p. 93). FRM changed to a support role for Aboriginal people who were living on their traditional homelands. FRM staff had the ‘task of researching ancient tribal laws, culture, customs and clan-group genealogies as they

7  Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central… 

191

are extant and operative among the present generation of Aboriginals at Hermannsburg’. They appointed a research team, granting staff leave of absence to further their study (Leske, 1977, p. 105). Pastor John Pfitzner studied linguistics at the Summer Institute of Linguistics in Brisbane in 1969–70. The headmaster of Hermannsburg school Rex Ziersch studied Anthropology at the University of Queensland. Garry Stoll was able to use his interpreting skills to listen to Arrarnta people, leading a project exploring housing in remote communities (Stoll et al., 1979). Leske noted that the team were uniquely placed to carry out the task, primarily through their understanding of Arrarnta. Eventually the Hermannsburg Mission lease was handed over to the traditional landowners who represented five land trusts (Albrecht, 2002, p. 90). FRM staff were to ‘see through Aboriginal eyes, not through European eyes’ (Leske, 1977, p. 105). They underwent a metanoia, a word for from the Greek of the New Testament for a transformative change of mindset that was possible because they could understand the languages spoken by the First Australians.

 he Diaspora, Language Diversity T and Minority Languages The existence of the Lutheran diaspora is largely due to the work of Aboriginal evangelists and missionaries who travelled away from their own language groups into the territories of others. These evangelists cover roughly three generations of missionary endeavor (Albrecht, 2002, p. 32). The first of these was Aranda man Moses Tjalkabota who was born around the time of the arrival of the first missionaries at Hermannsburg. Tjalkabota visited the community at Henbury Station, the home of the Pertame or Southern Aranda people (Henson, 1992, p. 209) in the time of Carl Strehlow who left and subsequently died in 1922 (Albrecht, 2002, p. 20). Moses made significant contributions to Aranda and Luritja research (Henson, 1992, p. 214). Thanks to the literary tradition of Hermannsburg we have a written record of Tjalkabota’s life, an Aranda account of over 50 pages (Latz, 2014). Tjalkabota was succeeded by

192 

D. Moore

Gamaliel (Leske, 1977, p. 85) who died in 1959 (Henson, 1992, p. 249). Colin and Joyce Malbunka moved to Neutral Junction Station which was a haven for Kaytetye and Alyawarr people who didn’t want to live at Warrabri as he mentioned in a letter to TGH Strehlow.1 Around 50 people lived at the camp near the station homestead (Petrick, 2017). In 1962 a multi-purpose building was built there to be used for worship, accommodation and entertainment. An evangelist’s house was donated and built by Bruno and Gladys Doecke of Sutherlands in South Australia (Albrecht, 1962). By this time two houses had been built for evangelists. Malbunka was ordained as an evangelist on 7 November 1971 (Albrecht, 2002, p. 5). Leske notes Malbunka’s ‘special linguistic gifts’ along with his faith and dedication to spreading the Christian message (Leske, 1977, p. 73). Learning the Kaytetye language, Malbunka translated hymns such as ‘Jesus Bids Us Shine’ into Kaytetye (Malbunka family, p.c.). One of the children Mildred later became an interpreter of the Kaytetye language. The work of these evangelists impacted communities speaking some of the lesser-known languages of Central Australia which are today part of the rich language heritage of the ASLC membership.

Conclusion Languages and their uses can generate controversy and have done so in the twentieth century. Languages were banned and suppressed. Some languages disappeared. Kaytetye and Pertame have become endangered languages, for which steps are being taken to ensure their survival as living languages. The German language was forbidden and Lutheran leaders were interned. Varieties of German and Sorbian ceased to be spoken in South Australian homes and congregations. While Aboriginal languages were being supported, the German language was being lost in the Lutheran heartland in South Australia. German Lutherans represented another point of view, one shaped by influences from outside the British Empire and the White Australia policy. Over a century the mission came to understand Aboriginal cultures and changed its policies through its deep engagement in Arrarnta and other Aboriginal languages. It was many years ahead of its time and can

7  Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central… 

193

now be celebrated for its far-sighted introduction of a more tolerant Christianity to Central Australia. The conglomerate and multilingual congregation which formed in Alice Springs was able to cope with linguistic, cultural and racial diversity. Many members, one body: the ASLC embraces linguistic diversity. Acknowledgements  I would like to thank Lorna Wilson for valuable historical background and insight into the history of the Old Church. I have benefited from many discussions with Old Church committee, Olga Radke, Tony Collins, Chris and Karl Benz. Rodney Malbunka and Mildred Inkamala and José Petrick on the history of Neutral Junction. I have enjoyed conversations about Central Europe with Erik Tikoft and Peter Mickan, on the German language in South Australia. For the FRM and UELCA background, I thank Paul Albrecht, Maurice Materne, Fay Grosser, Colin Jericho and Ivan Christian of the Finke River Mission Reunion.

Note 1. Letter 1st May 1962 (Malbangka Letters ARA 1962-2-3) Strehlow Research Centre, Alice Springs.

References Albrecht, P. G. E. (1962). The Missions of the Church. Lutheran Herald, January 12, 1963, p. 7. Albrecht, P. G. E. (2002). From Mission to Church (p. 31). Openbook. Clark, C. M. (2006). Iron Kingdom: The Rise and Downfall of Prussia, 1600–1947 (p. 127). Harvard University Press. Devlin, B. (2017). A Glimmer of Possibility. In B. C. Devlin, S. Disbray, & N. R. F. Devlin (Eds.), History of Bilingual Education in the Northern Territory: People, Programs and Policies (pp. 11–25). Springer. Eades, D. (2013). Aboriginal Ways of Using English. Aboriginal Studies Press. Forster, M. N. (2010). After Herder: Philosophy of Language in the German Tradition. Oxford University Press.

194 

D. Moore

Hebart, T. (1938). The United Evangelical Lutheran Church in Australia (U.E.L.C.A) Its History, Activity and Characteristics. English version edited by Johs. J. Stolz. Originally Published as Die Vereinigte Evangelisch-Lutherische Kirche in Australian (VELKA): ihr Werden, Wirken und Wesen; eine Zentenarschrift 1838–1938. Lutheran Publishing House. Henson, B. (1992). A Straight-Out Man: F.W. Albrecht and Central Australian Aborigines (p. 5). Melbourne University Press. Kenny, A. (2013). The Aranda’s Pepa: An introduction to Carl Strehlow’s Masterpiece Die Aranda und Loritja-Stämme in Zentral-Australien (1907–1920). ANU E Press. Kupke, L. (2019). The Wends: A Forgotten People. Friends of the Strehlow Research Centre. Proceedings of the 2018 Symposium, Alice Springs. Latz, P. (2014). Blind Moses, Aranda Man of High Degree and Christian Evangelist. IAD Press. Leske, E. (Ed.). (1977). Hermannsburg: A Vision and a Mission (p. 21). Lutheran Publishing House. Materne, J. E., Munchenberg, R. S., & The Materne Family Reunion Committee. (1978). The Descendants of Michael Materne in Australia 1858–1978 (p. 60). Lutheran Publishing House. Midena, D. (2018). Wine into Wineskins: The Neuendettelsau Missionaries’ Encounter with Language and Myth in New Guinea. In M. P. Fitzpatrick & P. Monteath (Eds.), Savage Worlds: German Encounters Abroad 1798–1914 (pp. 86–104). Manchester University Press. Moore, D. (2015). The Reformation, Lutheran Tradition and Missionary Linguistics. Lutheran Theological Journal, 49(1), 36–48. Perkins, R. (Director). (2008). The First Australians Episode 4: No other law. Blackfella Films. Peterson, N., & Kenny, A. (2017). The German-Language Tradition of Ethnography in Australia. In N. Peterson & A. Kenny (Eds.), German Ethnography in Australia (pp. 3–27). ANU Press. Petrick, J. (2017). Bournemouth, the Bush and Beyond: The Life Story of José Petrick OAM (p. 84). Historical Society of the Northern Territory. Rademaker, L. (2018). Found in Translation: Many Meanings on a North Australian Mission (p. 24). University of Hawai’i Press. Schulz, E. M. (1987). Guilty til Proven Innocent (Research Paper) (p. 99). South Australian College of Advanced Education.

7  Many Members, One Body: A Multilingual Church in Central… 

195

Stoll, G., Ziersch, R., & Schmaal, J. (1979). Principles Relating to Housing Amongst Aboriginal Groups Associated with Hermannsburg. In M. Heppell (Ed.), A Black Reality. Aboriginal Camps and Housing in Remote Australia. Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies. Strehlow, C. (1907–1920). Die Aranda-und Loritja-Stämme in ZentralAustralien. Joseph Baer and Co. Strehlow, T. G. H. (1971). Songs of Central Australia. Angus and Robertson. Swartz, S. (2020). Broken Pot: The Making of the Warlpiri Bible (p. 280). Ark House Press.

8 Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation and Indigenous Wellbeing Ghil’ad Zuckermann

Introduction: Revivalistics Revivalistics is an emerging global, trans-disciplinary field of enquiry studying comparatively and systematically the universal constraints and global mechanisms on the one hand (Zuckermann, 2003, 2009, 2020), and particularistic peculiarities and cultural relativist idiosyncrasies on the other, apparent in linguistic reclamation, revitalization and reinvigoration across various sociological backgrounds, all over the globe (Zuckermann & Walsh, 2011, 2014). What is the difference between reclamation, revitalization, and reinvigoration? All of them are on the revival spectrum. Here are my specific definitions: • Reclamation is the revival of a ‘Sleeping Beauty’ tongue, i.e. a no-­longer natively spoken language, as in the case of Hebrew, Barngarla (the

G. Zuckermann (*) The University of Adelaide, Adelaide, South Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_8

197

198 

G. Zuckermann

Aboriginal language of Eyre Peninsula, South Australia), Wampanoag, Siraya and Myaamia. • Revitalization is the revival of a severely endangered language, for example Adnyamathanha of the Flinders Ranges in Australia, as well as Karuk and Walmajarri. • Reinvigoration is the revival of an endangered language that still has a high percentage of children speaking it, for example the Celtic languages Welsh and Irish, and the Romance languages Catalan and Quebecoise French. Language endangerment has little to do with absolute numbers. Rather, it has to do with the percentage of children within the language group speaking the language natively. A language spoken natively by 10 million people can be endangered (as, say, only 40% of its kids speak it). A language spoken natively by 3000 people can be safe and healthy (as 100% of its kids are native speakers). Table 8.1 describes the difference between reclamation, revitalization and reinvigoration: Needless to say, reclamation, revitalization and reinvigoration are on a continuum, a cline. They do not constitute a discrete trichotomy. That Table 8.1 Comparison of reclamation, revitalization and reinvigoration of language Reclamation There are NO native speakers when the revival begins

Revitalization

Reinvigoration

Severely endangered. The Endangered. The percentage of children within percentage of the group speaking the children within the language natively is very low, group speaking the e.g. 0%, but there are still language natively is adults speaking the language lower than 100% natively e.g. Hebrew, e.g. Adnyamathanha, Karuk, e.g. Welsh, Irish, Barngarla, Walmajarri Catalan, Quebecoise Wampanoag, Siraya, French Myaamia; tunica (central and lower Mississippi Valley, USA)

8  Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation… 

199

said, the distinction is most useful. For example, the Master-Apprentice (or Mentor/Apprentice) method can only be used in the revitalization and reinvigoration, not in reclamation. This method was pioneered by linguist Leanne Hinton at the University of California, Berkeley (see, e.g., Hinton, 1994), who had been working with a wide range of Native American languages spoken or in some cases remembered or documented across California. In many cases, she was working with the remaining handful of ageing fluent speakers of languages such as Karuk. It is a difficult proposition to ask an elderly speaker to come into a school classroom and teach children when they themselves are not trained teachers and, in some cases, may never have had an opportunity to attend school themselves. Even if they were able to teach their languages in a school setting, will this really ensure that their language continues into future generations? Probably not. What is more effective is to ensure that highly motivated young adults who are themselves owners-custodians of the language gain a sound knowledge of and fluency in their language. This is achieved through the Master-Apprentice (or Mentor/Apprentice) approach: A young person is paired with an older fluent speaker – perhaps a granddaughter with her grandmother – and their job is to speak the language with each other without resorting to English. It does not matter what they do – they can weave baskets, go fishing, build houses, or fix cars together – so long as they speak the language with each other (Zuckermann, 2020). Revivalistics is trans-disciplinary because it studies language revival from various angles such as law, mental health, linguistics, anthropology, sociology, geography, politics, history, biology, evolution, genetics, genomics, colonization studies, missionary studies, media, animation film, technology, talknology, art, theatre, dance, agriculture, archaeology, music (see Grant, 2014), education, games (indirect learning), pedagogy (see Hinton, 2011), and even architecture. Consider architecture. An architect involved in revivalistics might ask the following ‘location, location, location’ question, which is, of course, beyond language:

200 

G. Zuckermann

• Should we reclaim an Indigenous language in a natural Indigenous setting, to replicate the original ambience of heritage, culture, laws, and lores? • Should we reclaim an Indigenous language in a modern building that has Indigenous characteristics such as Aboriginal colours and shapes? • Should we reclaim an Aboriginal language in a western governmental building – to give an empowering signal that the tribe has full support of contemporary mainstream society?

Why Should We Reclaim Dormant Languages? Approximately 7000 languages are currently spoken worldwide. The majority of these are spoken by small populations. Approximately 96% of the world’s population speaks around 4% of the world’s languages, leaving the vast majority of tongues vulnerable to extinction and disempowering their speakers. Linguistic diversity reflects many things beyond accidental historical splits. Languages are essential building blocks of community identity and authority. With globalization of dominant cultures, homogenization and Coca-­ colonization, cultures at the periphery are becoming marginalized, and more and more groups all over the world are added to the forlorn club of the lost-heritage peoples. One of the most important symptoms of this cultural disaster is language loss. A fundamental question for revivalistics, which both the tax-paying general public and the scholarly community ought to ask, is why does it matter to speak a different language? As Evans (2010) puts it eloquently in the introduction to his book Dying Words: you only hear what you listen for, and you only listen for what you are wondering about. The goal of this book is to take stock of what we should be wondering about as we listen to the dying words of the thousands of languages falling silent around us, across the totality of what Mike Krauss has christened the ‘logosphere’: just as the ‘biosphere’ is the totality of all species of life and all ecological links on earth, the logosphere is the whole vast realm of the world’s words, the languages that they build, and the links between them.

8  Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation… 

201

Evans (2010) ranges over the manifold ways languages can differ, the information they can hold about the deep past of their speakers, the interdependence of language and thought, the intertwining of language and oral literature. Relevant to revivalistics, it concludes by asking how linguistics can best go about recording existing knowledge so as to ensure that the richest, most culturally distinctive record of a language is captured, for use by those wanting to revive it in the future (see also Brenzinger, 1992, 1998, 2007a; Enfield 2011). Brenzinger emphasizes the threats to knowledge on the environment (Brenzinger et al., 1994; Heine & Brenzinger, 1988), conceptual diversity as a crucial loss in language shifts (Brenzinger, 2006, 2007b, 2018). The following is my own trichotomy of the main revivalistic reasons for language revival. The first reason for language revival is ethical: It is right. The second reason for language revival is aesthetic: It is beautiful. The third benefit for language revival is utilitarian: It is viable and socially beneficial.

Ethical Reasons A plethora of the world’s languages have not just been dying of their own accord; many were destroyed by settlers of this land. For example, in Australia we owe it to the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people to support the maintenance and revival of their cultural heritage, in this instance through language revival. According to the international law of human rights, persons belonging to ethnic, religious, or linguistic minorities have the right to use their own language (Article (art.) 27 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR)). Thus, every person has the right to express themselves in the language of their ancestors, not just in the language of convenience that English has become. Through supporting language revival, we can appreciate the significance of Indigenous languages and recognise their importance to Indigenous people and to Australia. We can then right some small part of the wrong against the original inhabitants of this country and support the wishes of their ancestors with the help of linguistic knowledge.

202 

G. Zuckermann

Aesthetic Reasons The linguist Ken Hale, who worked with many endangered languages and saw the effect of loss of language, compared losing language to bombing the Louvre: ‘When you lose a language, you lose a culture, intellectual wealth, a work of art. It’s like dropping a bomb on a museum, the Louvre’ (The Economist, 3 November 2001). A museum is a repository of human artistic culture. Languages are at least equally important since they store the cultural practices and beliefs of an entire people. Different languages have different ways of expressing ideas and this can indicate which concepts are important to a certain culture. For example, in Australia, information relating to food sources, surviving in nature, and Dreaming/history is being lost along with the loss of Aboriginal languages. A study by Boroditsky and Gaby (2010) found that speakers of Kuuk Thaayorre, a language spoken in Pormpuraaw on the west coast of Cape York, do not use ‘left’ or ‘right’, but always use cardinal directions (i.e. north, south, east, west). They claim that Kuuk Thaayorre speakers are constantly aware of where they are situated and that this use of directions also affects their awareness of time (Boroditsky & Gaby, 2010). Language supports different ways of ‘being in the world’. Such cases are abundant around the world. An example of a grammatical way to express a familiar concept is mamihlapinatapai, a lexical item in the Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego in Chile and Argentina. It refers to ‘a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would offer something that they both desire but have been unwilling to suggest or offer themselves’. This lexical item, which refers to a concept that many have despite lacking a specific word for it in their language, can be broken down into morphemes: ma- is a reflexive/passive prefix (realized as the allomorph mam- before a vowel); ihlapi ‘to be at a loss as what to do next’; -n, stative suffix; -ata, achievement suffix; and -apai, a dual suffix, which has a reciprocal sense with ma- (circumfix). Two examples of concepts that most people might never imagine are (1) nakhur, in Ancient Persian, refers to ‘camel that will not give milk until her nostrils have been tickled’. Clearly, camels are very important in this society and survival may have historically depended on camel milk;

8  Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation… 

203

(2) tingo, in Rapa Nui (Pasquan) of Easter Island (Eastern Polynesian language), is ‘to take all the objects one desires from the house of a friend, one at a time, by asking to borrow them, until there is nothing left’ (see De Boinod, 2005; De Boinod & Zuckermann, 2011); (3) bunjurrbi, in Wambaya (Non-Pama-Nyungan West Barkly Australian language, Barkly Tableland of the Northern Territory, Australia), is a verb meaning ‘to face your bottom toward someone when getting up from the ground’. Such fascinating and multifaceted words, maximus in minimīs, should not be lost. They are important to the cultures they are from and make the outsiders reflexive of their own cultures. Through language maintenance and reclamation we can keep important cultural practices and concepts alive. Lest we forget that human imagination is often limited. Consider aliens in many Hollywood films: despite approximately 3.5 billion years of DNA evolution, many people still resort to the ludicrous belief that aliens ought to look like ugly human beings, with two eyes, one nose, and one mouth.

Utilitarian Benefits Language revival benefits the speakers involved through improvement of wellbeing, cognitive abilities, and mental health (see Zuckermann & Walsh, 2014; chapter 9 of Zuckermann 2020); language revival also reduces delinquency and increases cultural tourism. Language revival has a positive effect on the mental and physical wellbeing of people involved in such projects. Participants develop a better appreciation of and sense of connection with their cultural heritage. Learning the language of their ancestors can be an emotional experience and can provide people with a strong sense of pride and identity. There are also cognitive advantages to bilingualism and multilingualism. Several studies have found that bilingual children have better non-­ linguistic cognitive abilities compared with monolingual children (Kovács & Mehler, 2009) and improved attention and auditory processing (Krizman et al., 2012: 7879): the bilingual’s ‘enhanced experience with sound results in an auditory system that is highly efficient, flexible and

204 

G. Zuckermann

focused in its automatic sound processing, especially in challenging or novel listening conditions’. Furthermore, the effects of multilingualism extend to those who have learned another language in later life and can be found across the whole lifespan. This is relevant to the first generation of revivalists, who might themselves be monolingual (as they won’t become native speakers of the Revival Language). The effects of non-native multilingualism include better cognitive performance in old age (Bak et al., 2014), a significantly later onset of dementia (Alladi et al., 2013), and a better cognitive outcome after stroke (Alladi et al., 2016; Paplikar et al., 2018). Moreover, a measurable improvement in attention has been documented in participants aged from 18 to 78 years after just one week of an intensive language course (Bak et  al., 2016). Language learning and active multilingualism are increasingly seen as contributing not only to psychological wellbeing but also to brain health (Bak & Mehmedbegovic, 2017), with a potential of reducing money spent on medical care (Bak, 2016). Further benefits to non-native multilingualism are demonstrated by Keysar et  al. (2012: 661). They found that decision-making biases are reduced when using a non-native language, as following: Four experiments show that the ‘framing effect’ disappears when choices are presented in a foreign tongue. Whereas people were risk averse for gains and risk seeking for losses when choices were presented in their native tongue, they were not influenced by this framing manipulation in a foreign language. Two additional experiments show that using a foreign language reduces loss aversion, increasing the acceptance of both hypothetical and real bets with positive expected value. We propose that these effects arise because a foreign language provides greater cognitive and emotional distance than a native tongue does.

Therefore, language revival is not only empowering culturally, but also cognitively, and not only the possibly-envisioned native speakers of the future but also the learning revivalists of the present.

8  Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation… 

205

L anguage Loss and Youth Suicide in British Columbia, Canada Language is postulated as core to people’s wellbeing. But it is one thing to have a qualitative statement about the importance of language for mental health; it is another to have the statistical, quantitative evidence that governments so often require to implement policies that will affect cultural and social wellbeing. One fundamental study, conducted in 2007  in British Columbia, Canada, began that evidence gathering: Hallett, Chandler and Lalonde (2007) reported a clear correlation between youth suicide and lack of conversational knowledge in the native tongue. They matched seven cultural continuity factors and measured them against reported suicide from 150 Indigenous Inuit communities and almost 14,000 individuals. These cultural continuing factors were self-governance, land claims, education, health care, cultural facilities, police/fire service and language. Of all the communities that research sampled, the results indicated that those communities with higher levels of language knowledge (over 50% of the community) had lower suicide levels when compared to other communities with less knowledge. The 16 communities with high levels of language had a suicide rate of 13 deaths per 100,000 people, compared to low levels of language which had 97 deaths per 100,000. The suicide rate in high language communities was six times lower than the other communities. When coupled with other cultural protective factors, there was an even higher protective effect against suicide. Hallett, Chandler and Lalonde demonstrated that youth suicide rates dropped to zero in those few communities in which at least half the members reported a conversational knowledge of their own native tongue. That landmark research was the first to study the correlation between language knowledge and mental health. However, so far there has been no study of a correlation in the other direction, i.e. the impact of language revival on improved mental health and reduction in suicide. This is partly because language reclamation is still rare (see Waldram, 1990; Chandler & Lalonde, 2008).

206 

G. Zuckermann

This chapter hypothesizes that just as language loss increases the suicide rate, language gain reduces the suicide rate, improves wellbeing and increases happiness.

Language Revival and Empowered Spirit in Australia Due to invasion, colonization, globalization, and homogenization, there are more and more groups losing their heritage. Linguicide (language killing) results in the loss of cultural autonomy, intellectual sovereignty and spirituality (Zuckermann, 2020). The dependence of the linguicided group on the colonizer’s tongue further increases the phenomena of disempowerment, self-loathing and suicide (see also Biddle & Swee, 2012; King et al., 2009). According to the 2008 National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander (ATSI) Social Survey, 31% of Indigenous Australians aged 15+ experienced high or very high levels of psychological distress in the four weeks prior to interview. This is 2.5 times the rate for non-Indigenous Australians. I arrived in Australia in 2004. My main goal has been to apply lessons from the Hebrew revival, of which I have been an expert, to the reclamation and empowerment of Indigenous languages and cultures. Throughout my revivalistic activities in the field in Australia and globally (e.g. China, Thailand, New Zealand, Namibia, South Africa, Canada, Israel, Norfolk Island and Cook Islands), I have noticed, qualitatively, that language reclamation has an empowering effect on the community wellbeing and mental health of the people directly involved, as well as on their extended families. Participants in my language reclamation workshops have developed a better appreciation of, and sense of connection with, their identity and cultural heritage. A practice known as singing to the sharks was an important ritual in Barngarla Aboriginal culture in Eyre Peninsula, South Australia. The performance consisted of men lining the cliffs of bays in the Eyre peninsula and singing out, while their chants were accompanied by women dancing on the beach. The aim was to enlist sharks and dolphins in driving shoals of fish towards the shore, where Barngarla fishermen in the shallows

8  Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation… 

207

could make their catch. This technique expired when the last speaker of Barngarla passed away in the 1960s.

 he Barngarla Aboriginal Language of Eyre Peninsula, T South Australia Barngarla is a dreaming, sleeping beauty tongue belonging to the Thura-­ Yura language group, which also includes Adnyamathanha, Kuyani, Nukunu, Ngadjuri, Wirangu, Nawoo, Narangga, and Kaurna. The name Thura-Yura derives from the fact that the word for ‘man, person’ in these languages is either thura or yura — consider Barngarla yoora. The Thura-­ Yura language group is part of the Pama-Nyungan language family, which includes 306 out of 400 Aboriginal languages in Australia, and whose name is a merism derived from the two end-points of the range: the Pama languages of northeast Australia (where the word for ‘man’ is pama) and the Nyungan languages of southwest Australia (where the word for ‘man’ is nyunga). According to (Bouckaert et  al., 2018), the Pama-Nyungan language family arose just under 6000  years ago around Burketown, Queensland. Typically for a Pama-Nyungan language, Barngarla has a phonemic inventory featuring three vowels ([a], [i], [u]) and retroflex consonants, an ergative grammar with many cases, and a complex pronominal system. Unusual features include a number system with singular, dual, plural and superplural (warraidya, ‘emu’; warraidyalbili ‘two emus’; warraidyarri ‘emus’; warraidyailyarranha, ‘a lot of emus’) and matrilineal and patrilineal distinction in the dual. For example, the matrilineal ergative first person dual pronoun ngadlaga (‘we two’) would be used by a mother and her child, or by a man and his sister’s child, while the patrilineal form ngarrrinyi would be used by a father and his child, or by a woman with her brother’s child. During the twentieth century, Barngarla was intentionally eradicated under Australian ‘stolen generation’ policies, the last original native speaker dying in 1960. Language reclamation efforts were launched on 14 September 2011  in a meeting between the author of this chapter (Professor Ghil’ad Zuckermann) and representatives of the Barngarla

208 

G. Zuckermann

people (Zuckermann, 2020). During the meeting I asked the Barngarla representatives m if they were interested in reclaiming their Dreaming, Sleeping Beauty tongue and improve their wellbeing, mental health, cultural autonomy, intellectual sovereignty, spirituality and education. They told me: ‘We’ve been waiting for you for fifty years!’ Since then, I have conducted dozens of language reclamation workshops to more than120 Barngarla people. The primary resource used has been a dictionary, including a brief grammar, written by the German Lutheran missionary Clamor Wilhelm Schürmann (Schürmann, 1844). Published resources for Barngarla, non-existent 10 years ago, are now emerging. Two examples are Barngarlidhi Manoo (‘Speaking Barngarla Together’, Zuckermann, 2019), a Barngarla alphabet book/primer compiled by Zuckermann in collaboration with the nascent Barngarla revivalistic community, as well as Mangiri, Yarda (Barngarla Wellbeing and Nature Book, Zuckermann, 2022). In May 2013, my Barngarla learners expressed clear feelings of empowerment during an interview on SBS ‘Living Black’ Series 18, Episode 9 (Linguicide) about the Barngarla revival, see www.youtube.com/ watch?v=DZPjdNaLCho, accessed 31 March 2021. Language reclamation increases emotions of wellbeing and pride amongst disempowered people, who fall between the cracks, feeling that they are neither whitefellas nor in command of their own Aboriginal heritage. As Fishman (2006: 90) puts it: The real question of modern life and for RLS [reversing language shift] is […] how one […] can build a home that one can still call one’s own and, by cultivating it, find community, comfort, companionship and meaning in a world whose mainstreams are increasingly unable to provide these basic ingredients for their own members.

The language revival process is as important as the revival goals. The reward is in the journey. Table 8.2 shows that more Aboriginal Australians see ‘improving wellbeing’ as more important than ‘increasing language use’ (79% vs 70%/65%, respectively). In 2017 Alex Brown, I, our team and the Barngarla Aboriginal people were awarded a grant from the National Health and Medical Research

209

8  Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation… 

Table 8.2  Goals of language activities; data drawn from the second, most recent, National Indigenous languages survey (NILS2) report and analysed by Marmion, Obata and Troy (2014) To help people connect with their language and culture To increase awareness of the language among the community To improve the wellbeing of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people

91% 81% 79%

To promote the language to the general public

74%

To increase the use of the language in the target group

70%

To ensure the maintenance of the language

66%

To increase language use within a particular setting To provide support for language speakers to continue to speak their language

65% 65%

To revive the language

65%

To support school language programs (e.g. curriculum development, provision of To record and archive recordings of the language To provide job opportunities for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people

62% 57% 51%

To increase the number of language speakers

50%

To make decisions about future directions for language work (e.g. development of a policy)

36% 0

10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100

Council (NHMRC) to assess quantitatively (rather than qualitatively) the correlation between language revival and mental health. As Brown said (personal communication): What scientists hold stock in is only what they can measure. But you can’t measure the mind or spirit. You can’t weigh it, you can’t deconstruct it. But only if we do will they see that Aboriginal people are spectators to the death of their culture, their lives […]. We watch as our culture dies. How are you going to measure that?

210 

G. Zuckermann

The quantitative instruments we employ have already been validated: Health and Wellbeing Survey Instrument consists of already-validated questionnaires selected from the ABS National Aboriginal & Torres Strait Islander Health & Social Survey and the Longitudinal Study of Indigenous Children (LSIC). Most importantly, however, the wellbeing measurement must be created together with the Aboriginal people themselves. And what we have done so far is exactly that: We have so far determined – together with the Aboriginal people themselves – how to assess their wellbeing. Indigenous assessment offers both an enhanced understanding of psychological constructs in their cultural context, and the potential to enrich universalistic psychological models. As Cheung and Fetvadjiev (2016: 334) argue, the need for Indigenous assessment tools that are sensitive to the cultural context becomes increasingly apparent with globalization and international mobility trends. The inadequacies of translating Western tests that ‘coax the observed pattern behaviour to fit the imposed model and ignore the local conceptualization of the observed pattern of behaviour’ have been recognized by cross-­ cultural psychologists (Cheung et al., 2003: 280). After all, establishing test equivalence and local norms for standardized translated tests demands considerable efforts in building a research program. Instead of ‘cutting one’s toes to fit the [imported] shoes’, there would be a greater incentive to develop Indigenous psychological tests that fit the local needs (Cheung et al., 2013). It is not only professional ethics that stipulate the use of culturally relevant and psychometrically reliable and valid tests; in some countries, such as South Africa, it is a legal requirement to adhere to such criteria. The main purpose of our NHMRC project is to assess the effectiveness of language reclamation in improving mental health (see Sivak et  al., 2019). Key outcomes also include the following: • Establishing the first formal test of a causal relationship between language revival and mental health. • Providing a model for language revival to be used by communities all over the world. My MOOC (Massive Open Online Course) Lang101x: Language Revival: Securing the Future of Endangered Languages has so far attracted 15,000 learners from 190 countries. On average I receive

8  Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation… 

211

an email message once a week from a minority or an indigenous group, e.g. from Africa and South America, hoping to reclaim its language. • Promoting language rights globally, e.g. by defining Aboriginal languages as the official languages of their region and by proposing ‘Native Tongue Title’ (Zuckermann et al., 2014), the enactment of an ex gratia compensation scheme for the linguicided tribes. Although some Australian states have enacted ex gratia compensation schemes for the victims of the ‘Stolen Generations’ policies, the victims of linguicide are largely overlooked by the Australian Government. Existing competitive grant schemes to support Aboriginal languages should be complemented with compensation schemes, which are based on a claim of right. I believe that language is more important than land (cf. ‘Native Title’), despite its intangibility. While continuing to support the reclamation of Barngarla (I am currently training Barngarla people to teach Barngarla, replacing me), our NHMRC project seeks to find out systematically whether there is an interdependence between language revival and important benefits such as personal and community empowerment, improved sense of identity and purpose, and enhanced mental health, thus closing the health gap between Indigenous peoples and others. The systematic measuring of these significant aspects of life has the potential to create a change not only in Australia but also all over the globe.

Concluding Remarks More and more indigenous and minority communities seek to reinstate their cultural authority in the world. However, many of them lack not only their heritage language but also the revivalistic knowledge required for language reclamation. One should listen to the voice of Jenna Richards, a Barngarla Aboriginal woman who took part in my Barngarla reclamation workshop in Port Lincoln, South Australia, on 18–20 April 2012. She wrote to me the following sentence in an unsolicited email message on 3 May 2012:

212 

G. Zuckermann

Personally, I found the experience of learning our language liberating and went home feeling very overwhelmed because we were finally going to learn our “own” language, it gave me a sense of identity and I think if the whole family learnt our language then we would all feel totally different about ourselves and each other cause it’s almost like it gives you a purpose in life.

As Barngarla woman Evelyn Walker (née Dohnt) wrote to me following the same reclamation workshop: “Our ancestors are happy!”.

References Alladi, S., Bak, T. H., Duggirala, V., Surampudi, B., Shailaja, M., Shukla, A. K., Chaudhuri, J. D., & Kaul, S. (2013). Bilingualism Delays Age at Onset of Dementia, Independent of Education and Immigration Status. Neurology, 81(22), 1938–1944. Alladi, S., Bak, T.  H., Mekala, S., Rajan, A., Chaudhuri, J.  R., Mioshi, E., Krovvidi, R., Surampudi, B., Duggirala, V., & Kaul, S. (2016). Impact of Bilingualism on Cognitive Outcome After Stroke. Stroke, 47, 258–261. Bak, T. H. (2016). Language Lessons to Help Protect Against Dementia. British Medical Journal, 354, i5039. Bak, T.  H., Long, M.  R., Vega-Mendoza, M., & Sorace, A. (2016). Novelty, Challenge, and Practice: The Impact of Intensive Language Learning on Attentional Functions. PLoS One. Published online 27 April 2016. Bak, T. H., & Mehmedbegovic D. (2017). Healthy Linguistic Diet: The Value of Linguistic Diversity and Language Learning. Journal of Languages, Society and Policy. Published online 21 May 2017. Bak, T. H., Nissan, J., Allerhand, M., & Deary, I. J. (2014). Does Bilingualism Influence Cognitive Ageing? Annals of Neurology, 75(6), 959–963. Biddle, N., & Swee, H. (2012). The Relationship Between Wellbeing and Indigenous Land, Language and Culture in Australia. Australian Geographer, 43(3), 215–232. Boroditsky, L., & Gaby, A. (2010). Remembrances of Times East Absolute Spatial Representations of Time in an Australian Aboriginal Community. Psychological Science, 21(11), 1635–1639. Brenzinger, M. (Ed.). (2007a). Language Diversity Endangered. Mouton de Gruyter.

8  Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation… 

213

Brenzinger, M. (2007b). ‘Vanishing conceptual diversity: The loss of hunter-­ gatherers’ concepts, Jornades 15 anys GELA (Grup d’Estudide Llengües Amenaçades), Recerca en llengües amenaçades (published on CD by GELA). Brenzinger, M. (Ed.). (1992). Language Death. Factual and Theoretical Explorations with Special Reference to East Africa. Mouton de Gruyter. Brenzinger, M. (Ed.). (1998). Endangered Languages in Africa. Rüdiger Köppe. Brenzinger, M. (2006). Conceptual Loss in Space and Time: Vanishing Concepts in Khwe, a Hunter-Gatherers. Language, Ajia Afurika Gengo Bunka Kenkyujo Tsushin, 116, 71–73. Brenzinger, M. (2018). Sharing Thoughts, Concepts and Experiences: Fieldwork on African Languages. In H. Sarvasy & D. Forker (Eds.), Word Hunters: Field Linguists on Fieldwork (Studies in Language Companion Series 194) (pp. 45–60). John Benjamins. Brenzinger, M., Heine, B., & Heine, I. (1994). The Mukogodo Maasai. An Ethnobotanical Survey. Rüdiger Köppe. Chandler, M. J., & Lalonde, C. E. (2008). Cultural Continuity as a Protective Factor Against Suicide in First Nations Youth. Horizons – A Special Issue on Aboriginal Youth, Hope or Heartbreak: Aboriginal Youth and Canada’s Future, 10(1), 68–72. Cheung, F.  M., Cheung, S.  F., Wada, S., & Zhang, J.  X. (2003). Indigenous Measures of Personality Assessment in Asian Countries: A Review. Psychological Assessment, 15, 280–289. https://doi.org/10.1037/1040-­3590.15.3.280 Cheung, F. M., Fan, W. Q., & Cheung, S. F. (2013). From Chinese to Cross-­ Cultural Personality Assessment: A Combined Emic-Etic Approach to Study Personality in Culture. In M.  Gelfand, Y.  Y. Hong, & C.  Y. Chiu (Eds.), Advances in Psychology and Culture Series (Vol. 3, pp.  117–178). Oxford University Press. Cheung, F. M., & Fetvadjiev, V. H. (2016). Indigenous Approaches to Testing and Assessment. In F. T. L. Leong, D. Bartram, F. M. Cheung, K. F. Geisinger, & D. Iliescu (Eds.), The ITC International Handbook of Testing and Assessment (pp. 333–346). Oxford University Press. De Boinod, A. J. (2005). The Meaning of Tingo: And Other Extraordinary Words from Around the World. Penguin. De Boinod, A. J., & Zuckermann, G. (2011). Tingo: Language as a Reflection of Culture. (The Israeli translation of Adam Jacot de Boinod’s the Meaning of Tingo). Keren. (Three Chapters by Zuckermann, pp. 193–222). Enfield, N. J. (Ed.). (2011). Dynamics of Human Diversity: The Case of Mainland Southeast Asia. Pacific Linguistics.

214 

G. Zuckermann

Evans, N. (2010). Dying Words. Endangered Languages and What They Have to Tell Us. Wiley-Blackwell. Fishman, J.  A. (2006). Language Loyalty, Language Planning, and Language Revitalization: Recent Writings and Reflections from Joshua A.  Fishman (Vol. 59), N. H. Hornberger & M. Pütz (Eds.). Multilingual Matters. Grant, C. (2014). Music Endangerment: How Language Maintenance Can Help. Oxford University Press. Hallett, D., Chandler, M. J., & Lalonde, C. E. (2007). Aboriginal Language Knowledge and Youth Suicide. Cognitive Development, 22(3), 392–399. Heine, B., & Brenzinger, M. (1988). Plants of the Borana (Ethiopia and Kenya). (Plant Concepts and Plant Use, Part IV). Breitenbach. Hinton, L. (1994). Flutes of Fire: Essays on California Indian Languages. Heyday Books. Hinton, L. (2011). Language Revitalization and Language Pedagogy: New Teaching and Learning Strategies. Language and Education, 25(4), 307–318. Keysar, B., Hayakawa, S. L., & An, S. G. (2012). The Foreign-Language Effect Thinking in a Foreign Tongue Reduces Decision Biases. Psychological Science, 23(6), 661–668. King, M., Smith, A., & Gracey, M. (2009). Indigenous Health Part 2: The Underlying Causes of the Health Gap. The Lancet, 374(9683), 76–85. Kovács, Á. M., & Mehler, J. (2009). Flexible Learning of Multiple Speech Structures in Bilingual Infants. Science, 325(5940), 611–612. Krizman, J., Marian, V., Shook, A., Skoe, E., & Kraus, N. (2012). Subcortical Encoding of Sound Is Enhanced in Bilinguals and Relates to Executive Function Advantages. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 109(20), 7877–7881. Marmion, D., Obata, K., & Troy, J. (2014). Community, Identity, Wellbeing: The Report of the Second National Indigenous Languages Survey. Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies (AIATSIS). Paplikar, A., Mekala S., Bak T. H., Dharamkar S., Alladi S., & Kaul S. (2018). Bilingualism and the Severity of Post-Stroke Aphasia. Aphasiology. Published on-line 15 January 2018. Sivak, L., Westhead, S., Richards, E., Atkinson, S., Richards, J., Dare, H., Zuckermann, G., Gee, G., Wright, M., Rosen, A., Walsh, M., Brown, N., & Brown, A. (2019). “Language Breathes Life”  – Barngarla Community Perspectives on the Wellbeing Impacts of Reclaiming a Dormant Australian Aboriginal Language. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, 16, 3918. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph16203918. https:// res.mdpi.com/d_attachment/ijerph/ijerph-­1 6-­0 3918/article_deploy/ ijerph-­16-­03918.pdf

8  Why Should We Sing to the Sharks? Language Reclamation… 

215

Waldram, J. B. (1990). The Persistence of Traditional Medicine in Urban Areas: The Case of Canada’s Indians. American Indian and Alaska Native Mental Health Research, 4(1), 9–29. Zuckermann, G. (2003). Language Contact and Lexical Enrichment in Israeli Hebrew. Palgrave Macmillan. Zuckermann, G. (2009). Hybridity Versus Revivability: Multiple Causation, Forms and Patterns. Journal of Language Contact Varia, 2, 40–67. Zuckermann, G. (2019). Barngarlidhi Manoo: Speaking Barngarla Together. Barngarla Language Advisory Committee (BLAC). Zuckermann, G. (2020). Revivalistics: From the Genesis of Israeli to Language Reclamation in Australia and Beyond. Oxford University Press. Zuckermann, G. (2022). Mangiri. Barngarla Wellbeing and Nature Book. Zuckermann, G., & Walsh, M. (2011). Stop, Revive, Survive: Lessons from the Hebrew Revival Applicable to the Reclamation, Maintenance and Empowerment of Aboriginal Languages and Cultures. Australian Journal of Linguistics, 31(1), 111–127. (Also Published as Chapter 28 in Susan D Blum (ed.) 2012, Making Sense of Language: Readings in Culture and Communication, 2nd ed., Oxford University Press). Zuckermann, G & Walsh, M. (2014). “Our Ancestors Are Happrjry!”: Revivalistics in the Service of Indigenous Wellbeing. Foundation for Endangered Languages XVIII: Indigenous Languages: Value to the Community (pp. 113–119). Foundation for Endangered Languages. Zuckermann,G., Shakuto-Neoh, S., & Quer, G. M. (2014). Native Tongue Title: Compensation for the Loss of Aboriginal Languages. Australian Aboriginal Studies (AAS), 2014(1), 55–71.

9 Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia James Forrest

Geopolitical and national development imperatives since World War 2 have profoundly impacted on the nature and diversity of Australia’s population. In the first quarter of a century after the war, defence (‘populate or perish’) and economic policy (industrialisation) initiatives led to a major expansion of immigrant sources from Britain, Ireland and Europe. Then, with the ending of the White Australian policy in the early 1970s, Australia opened its doors to immigrants from all parts of the world (Forrest et al., 2006), with largest numbers coming from the Middle East and Asia. Faced with these major streams of immigrants from culturally diverse backgrounds, by 1973 multiculturalism was developed as a national policy framework guiding their integration into Australian society. At its heart were two main principles. First, that all members of society should have equal opportunities to realise their full potential. Second, that every person should be able to maintain their culture without prejudice or

J. Forrest (*) Macquarie University, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_9

217

218 

J. Forrest

disadvantage (Galbally Report, 1978). This vision of Australian multiculturalism prevails today, though modified from time to time to reflect changing political circumstances (Ho, 2013). A significant impact of increasing diversity associated with these post-­ World War 2 migration streams coming to Australia has been a major increase in the proportion of residents who are multilingual. The 2016 Australian census recorded more than 300 languages, with 21 per cent of the population speaking a language other than English at home (Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2017). Should this multilingualism be preserved? In tabling the Galbally Report in the federal parliament in 1979, then Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser emphasised the value of linguistic and cultural maintenance in a multicultural Australia. Smolicz (1981) stressed language maintenance as a ‘core value’ for the survival of community and cultural identity. However, in the absence of any general strategy to promote the maintenance of community languages within the public school system (Chik et al., 2019), the intergenerational maintenance of such languages depends on environmental factors, cultural practices and individual agency (Buckingham, 2021). Although the family is the most researched of the domains within which heritage language maintenance has been studied (Rubino, 2010), among other social and cultural influences religion is commonly ascribed a role (Omoniyi, 2006). This is especially important when family use of its heritage language loses ground to the language of the dominant society (Ding & Goh, 2020). Of relationships between heritage languages and religion in Australia, Woods (2005) asks ‘what is the role of language in ethnic churches?’ We reverse that question to: what is the role of religion in heritage language maintenance? To what extent do the religions migrants bring with them help to sustain ethnic communities and heritage languages among later generations? And we extend it to embrace: what has been the role of established religions in accepting and helping to integrate these new Australians from many different cultural backgrounds towards maintaining a multilingual Australia? These questions are addressed by comparing successive generations between those retaining the use of heritage languages in the home who record themselves as having ‘no religion’ with those of faith. Comparisons are made using bespoke cross-tabulations of

219

9  Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia 

relevant data on religions and religious denominations, languages spoken at home and first through second or third (where data are available) generations from the 2016 census, drawn from the Australian Bureau of Statistics’ Tablebuilder facility.1

Religious Diversity, Population Diversity Contemporary multicultural, multifaith Australia is set within a context of major changes that have taken place since World War 2 during a period of increasing diversity, indeed ‘super-diversity’ (Vertovec, 2007) associated with immigration and population growth. Between the 1947 and 2001 censuses, Bouma (2006) noted that religion grew in strength and presence. In the decade prior to the 2016 census, however, there were major shifts in Australia’s religious landscape (Table 9.1). Table 9.1  Main religious groups, 2006–2016. Australia as a whole 2006 Total Western (Roman) Catholic 5,087,907 Other Catholic 39,159 Anglican 3,718,242 Baptist 318,741 Lutheran 251,105 Mormons 52,154 Greek Orthodox 374,575 Other Orthodox 210,517 Uniting+Presbyterian+Methodist 1,732,844 Other Protestant 902,781 Buddhism 418,758 Hinduism 148,125 Islam 340,392 Judaism 88,831 Sikhism 264,426 Other beliefs 279,137 No religion 3,643,818 Not stated 223,957 Overseas visitor 206,357 Total 20,061,646

2016 Per cent

Total

Per cent

26.4 0.2 18.6 1.6 1.3 0.3 1.9 1.0 8.6 4.5 2.1 0.7 1.7 0.4 0.1 1.4 18.2 11.1 1.0

5,231,433 60,301 3,101,190 345,144 174,023 60,939 373,589 194,084 1,434,273 1,226,650 563,675 440,303 604,244 91,023 15,904 202,889 6,933,711 2,132,167 315,530 23,787,418

22.1 0.3 13.1 1.6 0.7 0.3 1.6 0.8 6.0 5.2 2.4 1.9 2.5 9.4 0.5 0.9 29.2 9.4 1.3

220 

J. Forrest

Most noticeably, Australians became a much more secular society, with those reporting ‘no religion’ increasing from 11.1 per cent of the population to 38.4 per cent between the 2006 and 2021 censuses; results from the 2021 census are as yet incomplete but are reported here as appropriate. The effects have been unevenly distributed, especially among the Protestant churches. Major negative impacts occurred among Anglicans (an absolute decline from 3.7m in 2006 to 3.1m in 2016 and 2.5m in 2021), adherents of the Uniting and related churches (from 1.74m to 1.43m), Lutherans (from 251,105 to 174,023 to 145,868 in 2021). Baptists, on the other hand, increased from 316,741 in 2006 to 347,334 in 2021) and ‘other’ Protestant churches increased their membership (from 902,781 to 1.23m). Chief among these were the Pentecostals (a major increase from 88,534 to 265,838 in 2021), Mormons (from 52,151 to 60,939 and now 85,405) and Seventh Day Adventists (55,252 to 63,662 in 2021). Australia’s largest denomination, the Western (Roman) Catholic church, largely retained its numbers, but its national share decreased from 22.1 per cent in 2006 (5,087,907) to 21.0 per cent (5,075,907) in 2021. Nevertheless. the smaller ‘ethnic’ based Catholic churches, notably Maronites (from Lebanon) and the small Melkite Greek Catholic congregations retained and increased their numbers, while Chaldean Catholics (from Iraq) increased from 4500 to 8363. Among the eastern Orthodox churches, there was a slight decline in the number of adherents to Greek Orthodoxy with the decline in immigration from Greece, but increases, albeit relatively slight, among adherents from other Eastern and South East European countries. Macedonian Orthodox, the next largest after the Greek Orthodox, increased from 48,083 to 49,683, while the Serbian Orthodox went from 39,968 to 41,015; Russian Orthodox numbers increased from 19,969 to 21,961. Among non-Christian denominations there were major increases. For example, devotees of Hinduism, increased their proportion of the Australian population from 0.7 in 2006 to 2.7 per cent in 2021. Adherents of Sikhism, increased very significantly from 26,426 to 219,400 in 2021. Buddhists also grew, from 2.1 to 2.4 per cent. So too with Judaism, whose numbers went from 88,831 in 2006 to 99,956 in 2021 though remaining at 0.4 per cent of Australians, a figure which has remained almost

9  Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia 

221

Table 9.2  Australia: population change 2006–2016 2006 census New Zealand United Kingdom Ireland Total Western Europe Northern Europe Southern Europe South Eastern Europe Eastern Europe Total North Africa+ Middle East Mainland South-­ East Asia Maritime South-­ East Asia Chinese Asia Japan and the Koreas Southern Asia Central Asia Total North America South America Central America Total Central and West Africa Southern and East Africa Total

Per Population cent 389,465 1,038,158 50,256 239,111 28,649 270,691 321,613 129,434

9.1 24.2 1.2 25.4 5.6 0.7 6.3 7.5

250,505

3 23 5.8

236,723

5.5

315,716

7.4

305,038 83,593

7.1 1.9

247,481 20,039

11,243

5.8 0.5 28.1 2.2 1.6 0.3 4.1 0.3

180,578

4.2

93,829 69,162 12,952

4.5

2016 census

Per Population cent

New Zealand United Kingdom Ireland Total Western Europe Northern Europe Southern Europe South Eastern Europe Eastern Europe Total North Africa + Middle East Mainland South-East Asia Maritime South-East Asia Chinese Asia Japan and the Koreas Southern Asia Central Asia Total North America South America Central America

518,462 1,087,758 74,891

8.63 18.12 1.25

238,092 30,433 243,323 290,315

3.97 0.51 4.05 4.83

124,056 374,089

2.07 15.5 6.23

361,804

6.03

511,041

8.51

648,159 141,270

10.79 2.35

730,071 52,722

Central and West Africa Southern and East Africa Total

28,830

12.16 0.88 40.8 2.16 1.91 0.28 4.4 0.48

288,358

4.8

129,703 114,600 16,596

Overall per cent change 2006–2016

5.28 28.5

constant since the 1947 census (Bouma, 2006, 53). Major increases experienced by Hinduism (from 148,125 in 2006 to 684,002 in 2021) and Islam (from 340,392 to 813,382 in 2021), however, remind us that the country’s religious diversity is closely related to the composition of immigrant streams coming to Australia (Table  9.2). Between the 2006 and 2016 censuses (results for birthplaces are presently limited to the top 20

222 

J. Forrest

countries and are not reported here), Britain and Ireland’s share of Australia’s overseas born population fell from 25.4 to 19.4 per cent. Flows from Europe fell from 23.0 to 15.4 per cent. This helps to explain the declining share of Anglicans and Lutherans, indeed of British Protestantism generally, relative to the influx of adherents of religious groups from other nationalities. Thus, immigrants from the Indian sub-continent (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka) increased their share of Australia’s overseas born population from 5.8 to 12.2 per cent.

 n Heritage Language Maintenance O in a Multicultural, Multifaith Society Coming to a multifaith, secular Australia has been a novel experience for many immigrants. But from a study of religion and the refugee experience in Melbourne, Ennis (2011) found that religiosity helped in building relationships with the ‘other’ (the culturally dominant Anglo-Celtic hosts), in gaining acceptance in their new society. Clyne and Kipp (1997) have highlighted heritage language retention as a ‘success story’ among the Greek community in Melbourne associated in important part with community life centred on the Greek Orthodox church. Successive generations of Macedonians too have high levels of retention linked to close social networking in local churches and schools (Clyne & Kipp, 2006). However, intergenerational heritage language maintenance or retention varies among immigrant ancestry groups (Forrest, & Dandy, 2017). Woods (2005) modelled links between language and religion in Australia’s established Christian churches according to the degree of ‘separateness’ of the language of liturgy and worship, and the extent to which services are provided in ethnic languages. At one end of the separateness spectrum, God was regarded as so special that a special language should be used (perhaps the best example is the use of Latin in the Western Catholic Church prior to Vatican II in the early 1960s). At the other end was a worshipping experience based on a personal relationship between an individual and their God, expressed entirely in the ordinary language of members of the congregation (Baptists and members of the Uniting Church). Some religious groups have embraced multiculturalism The Uniting Church in Melbourne, for example, has been noted for its openness to the

9  Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia 

223

presence and influence of all cultures (Woods, 2005, p. 35). In 1985 the 4th Assembly of the church proclaimed itself ‘a multicultural church in the fact that our membership comprises people of many races, cultures and languages …’. This especially applied to services for speakers of Indonesian, most of whom were ethnic Chinese forced to leave Indonesia in the 1950s. In a review article, Batrouney (2006) referred to memories of his youth in an Antiochian (formerly Syrian) Orthodox church in East Melbourne which, though the language of worship was predominantly Arabic, ‘served as a welcoming home to other Orthodox and their languages.’ Ding and Goh (2020) have shown of Hakka, commonly spoken among diaspora Chinese in South East Asia, how religious institutions could play an active role in heritage language maintenance. Among Tamil speaking worshippers in Hindu temples in Australia, while the formal rituals of the faith were in Sanskrit (as was the practice in Sri Lanka), some forms of group worship, and other forms of communication used Tamil (Perera, 2016). To reiterate, a major aspect of religion associated with any potential for maintaining a multilingual Australia is the role of both the ‘new’ and established religions among the many immigrants who are of those or related faiths. This is summarised in Table 9.2, which displays, from the 2016 census, Australia’s larger religions. In particular, it shows the wide-­ ranging role of the Roman Catholic; to a lesser extent the Anglican and other established Protestant churches across immigrant groups from most world regions; and the more specific immigrant groups served by the major non-Christian religions: Islam, Hinduism, Judaism, Sikhism and Buddhism. Religious diversity, like population diversity, is a dynamic aspect of Australian life, constantly subject to reinvigoration or decline in the face of changing patterns of immigrant origins and the specific components of population diversity.

 eligion and Heritage Language Maintenance R by Source Regions of Immigrants In the following sections, we explore faith-based associations with heritage language maintenance in the first, second and third generations associated with religious denominations. Results are compared with the language maintenance of those claiming ‘no religion’, to suggest the

224 

J. Forrest

impact of religion on multilingualism in Australia. In each of the following tables, six or seven cases of language-religious denomination representative of their regions are displayed.

Religion and Languages of Western Europe Among heritage languages of Western Europe (Table 9.3), intergenerational language maintenance associated with religions has little effect compared with those who have no religious affiliation. Among those speaking German at home, there was a decrease in maintenance associated with attachment to a religion, from 62 per cent in the first generation to 53.7 per cent in the third. Among French speakers it fell from 64.6 to 53.5 per cent. For Dutch speakers the decline was smaller among the religious, with effectively no change between the second and third generations, but the high percentage with no religion (50 per cent) stresses the relative lack of influence of religion. Much the same occurred among those whose heritage language was Swedish. Greatest intergenerational shift away from heritage language occurred among Portuguese (and Spanish) speakers, from a high 77.9 per cent in the first generation to 59.3 per cent in the third. That much of this reflected rejection of religious belonging shows up in the commensurate increase among the numbers of people from this language group stating that they were non-religious. Of equal interest are the specific religions which played the greatest part in intergenerational heritage language maintenance. By far the most significant to the languages of Western Europe in Australia has been the Catholic Church, though in four of the six cases quoted here  – those speaking German, Dutch, French and Portuguese – that effect has been declining. Only among Danish and Swedish speakers has affiliation to Catholicism had increasingly positive impacts. Among immigrant steams from Northern Europe, adherence to the Lutheran church has been the second most important influence. More so than Catholicism, however, there has been intergenerational decline in heritage language maintenance in all cases. The proportion of those speaking German at home who professed the Lutheran faith in the third generation, for example,

225

9  Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia  Table 9.3  Religion and Western European languages Generation Anglican Church of Australia Baptist Western (Roman) Catholic Jehovah’s witnesses Mormon Lutheran Presbyterian Reformed Free reformed Seventh-day Adventist Uniting Church Pentecostal Judaism No religion, so described Totals Generation Anglican Church of Australia Baptist Western (Roman) Catholic Jehovah’s witnesses Mormon Lutheran Presbyterian Reformed Free reformed Seventh-day Adventist Uniting Church Pentecostal Judaism No religion, so described Totals

German Dutch Danish 1st 2nd 3rd 1st 2nd 3rd 1st 2nd 3rd 4.1 4.8 16.5 2.8 4.1 12.2 9.5 9.2 15.0 1.1 30.8

1.4 1.6 1.5 26.2 19.3 31.9

2.4 1.9 27.5 23.5

0.5 2.9

0.0 3.3 8.7 21.0

0.8

0.7

0.2

0.7

0.7

0.8

0.8

1.9

0.0

0.1 17.5 1.8 0.2 0.0 0.3

0.1 13.2 1.1 0.2 0.0 0.3

0.3 5.3 2.3 0.1 0.0 0.2

0.1 0.6 4.5 3.1 0.7 0.2

0.1 0.4 4.8 2.3 1.4 0.2

0.0 0.0 0.9 26.9 3.5 1.9 1.2 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.3

0.0 20.4 0.8 0.0 0.0 0.0

0.0 3.3 2.3 0.0 0.0 0.0

1.3 1.0 0.7 38.0

1.7 4.4 3.7 1.0 0.6 1.3 1.0 0.3 0.5 45.4 46.3 46.5

2.4 3.5 2.1 1.9 0.9 0.9 0.5 0.4 0.3 50.3 50.2 52.1

1.1 5.7 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 55.7 45.3

47,223 7754 4400 22,935 3074 745 3451 368 300 Swedish French Portuguese 1st 2nd 3rd 1st 2nd 3rd 1st 2nd 3rd 5.5 5.7 12.6 2.5 3.2 15.5 0.5 0.6 7.8 0.8 4.0

0.5 0.9 0.8 6.6 16.1 48.7

0.4

0.9

0.7

0.4

0.4

0.4

0.7

0.6

0.5

0.0 18.1 1.1 0.0 0.0 0.1

0.0 11.4 1.3 0.0 0.0 0.0

0.0 1.9 1.6 0.0 0.0 0.0

0.1 0.1 0.6 0.0 0.0 0.6

0.2 0.1 0.7 0.0 0.0 0.4

0.3 0.5 2.0 0.0 0.0 0.2

0.2 0.2 0.9 0.0 0.0 0.5

0.2 0.3 0.5 0.0 0.0 0.8

0.0 0.6 1.8 0.0 0.0 0.0

0.9 1.4 0.4 64.5

0.5 3.5 0.5 0.5 0.5 1.7 1.3 0.7 1.2 68.1 59.3 35.4

4853

546

570

0.6 1.2 2.0 40.2 25.0 67.2

0.5 3.5 0.2 1.0 0.7 1.4 1.9 1.2 0.5 45.1 46.5 22.1

1.3 1.3 73.0 39.8

0.2 2.5 1.5 1.8 0.4 0.4 19.7 40.7

42,310 2434 5959 35,123 1037 973

226 

J. Forrest

was just 5.3 per cent, compared with 17.5 in the first (immigrant) generation. This outcome was most noticeable among Lutherans from Scandinavia. The proportion of Lutheran Danish speakers fell from 26.9 to 3.3 per cent, and among speakers of Swedish from 18.1 to 1.9 per cent; in both cases this was accompanied by the rising strength of Catholicism. Among those whose heritage language was Dutch, affiliation to the Reformed (and Free Reformed) church, strongly Calvinist in background, uniquely reflected the history of Dutch immigration to Australia (Wang, 1997). (The same effect occurs among Afrikaans speakers from South Africa who also embraced the Presbyterian, Uniting and Pentecostal churches in Australia).

 eligion and Languages of Southern, South Eastern R and Eastern Europe Contrary to the Western European situation, religious adherence, through Western Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, dominates heritage language maintenance among immigrant streams from Southern, South Eastern and Eastern Europe (Table 9.4). In most cases, ‘no religion’ was unimportant, though for Italian speakers the number of people reporting ‘no religion’ increasing from 6.3 per cent in the first generation to 15.3 per cent in the third. It was higher among immigrant streams from Eastern Europe, even among Polish speakers where it surged from 12.2 to 18.2 per cent between the first and third generations. Interestingly, adherence to the smaller mainstream Protestant denominations was relatively strong among speakers of Eastern Europeans languages, increasingly so across the three generations. In the third generation, for instance, 4.2 per cent of Hungarian, 4.5 per cent of Polish and 7.5 per cent of Russian speakers recorded themselves as Anglicans. Pentecostalism recorded 1.0 pr cent of Russian speakers in the immigrant generation, increasing to 4.7 per cent in the third. Other denominations, like Presbyterianism, similarly played a minor but noticeable role in heritage language maintenance among Eastern European languages in Australia. Nevertheless, the majority first through third generation pattern of heritage language maintenance associated with religious affiliations across

227

9  Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia 

Table 9.4  Religion with Southern, South Eastern and Eastern European languages Italian Generation 1st 2nd Anglican 0.2 0.2 Baptist 0.1 0.2 Western 90.8 90.8 (Roman) Catholic Greek 0.3 0.3 Orthodox Russian 0.0 0.0 Orthodox Serbian 0.0 0.0 Orthodox Presbyterian 0.0 0.1 Uniting 0.1 0.1 Church Pentecostal 0.5 0.7 Judaism 0.1 0.0 No religion, 6.3 6.2 so described Totals 1,55,301 73,311 Hungarian Generation 1st 2nd Anglican 0.8 1.4 Baptist 1.1 1.1 Western 61.4 56.7 (Roman) Catholic Greek 0.3 0.2 Orthodox Russian 0.0 0.0 Orthodox Serbian 0.0 0.3 Orthodox Presbyterian 5.1 3.7 Uniting 0.5 0.5 Church Pentecostal 0.6 1.1 Judaism 4.6 3.6 No religion, 20.0 26.6 so described Totals 13,674 2785

Greek 1st 0.1 0.2 0.6

2nd 0.2 0.2 0.6

3rd 0.8 0.2 2.4

1.3

95.5

93.6

91.4

9.9

6.7

4.2

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.3

0.0

0.8

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

73.1

0.5 1.0

0.0 0.0

0.1 0.0

0.2 0.2

0.1 0.0

0.1 0.1

0.3 0.0

0.6 0.1 15.3

0.1 0.0 2.2

0.2 0.0 4.3

0.1 0.0 3.9

0.1 0.0 9.4

0.2 0.0 9.5

0.0 0.0 9.5

3rd 4.0 0.4 74.5

Serbian 1st 0.1 0.2 4.1

2nd 3rd 0.4 1.3 0.1 0.0 2.6 5.9

77.8 76.2

19,155 93,550 74,897 30,661 27,913 9273 867 Polish Russian 3rd 1st 2nd 3rd 1st 2nd 3rd 4.2 0.2 0.3 4.5 0.5 0.8 7.5 1.0 0.3 0.4 1.1 1.8 2.2 1.2 55.1 82.1 79.4 69.8 2.4 3.6 10.0

0.0

0.1

0.1

0.7

6.2

3.5

2.2

0.0

0.1

0.0

0.0

31.4

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.1

0.9

2.2 2.2

0.1 0.1

0.1 0.1

0.7 1.5

0.2 0.1

0.1 0.4

0.5 0.9

2.9 1.6 27.6

0.6 1.2 12.2

0.9 0.3 15.6

0.8 0.6 18.2

1.0 16.5 36.2

312

32,698 8176

719

28,369 5984 773

32.9 39.3

2.7 4.7 17.4 2.2 33.5 28.6

228 

J. Forrest

Southern, South Eastern and Eastern Europe was generally one of decline, though less so among those with no religion. The percentage of Italian speakers associated with Catholicism declined from 90.8 per cent in the first generation to 74.5 per cent in the third. There was, however, sustained use of Greek, led by adherents of the Greek Orthodox Church, with only a slight fall from 95.5 to 91.4 per cent between the first and third generations of Greek speakers. Both the Serbian and Russian Orthodox communities similarly maintained use of Serbian and Russian, the latter in the face of a decline in the use of Russian among those with no religion. On the other hand, members of the Jewish community largely deserted the use of Russian. Such use declined from 16.5 per cent in the first generation to 2.2 per cent in the third after a slight rise in the second. The same trend occurred among Polish speakers, though the percentages involved were much smaller.

 eligion and Language of the Middle East and South R West Asia Except among speakers of Persian (Farsi), but rather less so Turkish and Hebrew, religious affiliation was strongly associated with heritage language maintenance (Table  9.5). This was equally true of followers of Islam but also of Western and Maronite Catholics among speakers of Arabic, and of course Hebrew among Jewish people. Those claiming no religious affiliation were relatively few and declined between the first and second or third generations; where only two generations are shown there were too few of that language group in the third generation in 2016 to include. A stand-out feature was the reduction in ‘no religion’ among speakers of Hebrew in the third generation, but they may appear to have moved to Buddhism, Anglicanism and Western Catholicism. The main exception, Persian, stands out in two ways. First, in the high level of those recording no religion, which increased slightly between the first and second generations. The second was the strong and increasing attachment to the Baha’i religious group in the first and second generations. Baha’i is a monotheistic religion founded in the nineteenth century in Persia (Iran); it emphasises the essential oneness of humankind and of

229

9  Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia  Table 9.5  Religion with Middle Eastern and SW Asian lanuages Generation Buddhism Anglican Baptist Western Catholic Maronite Catholic Antiochian Orthodox Coptic Orthodox Greek Orthodox Islam Judaism No religion, so described Totals

Arabic 1st 2nd 0.0 0.0 0.7 0.3 1.0 0.6 14.7 12.9

Turkish 3rd 1st 0.5 0.1 1.3 0.1 0.4 0.1 12.9 0.4

2nd 0.1 0.1 0.0 0.3

Hebrew 3rd 1st 2nd 3rd 0.2 0.2 0.0 0.7 1.2 0.1 0.0 0.7 0.0 0.1 0.0 0.0 1.8 0.2 0.2 0.7

6.6

10.9

12.4

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

1.8

2.4

2.3

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

9.3

5.0

0.4

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

2.8

2.8

2.4

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

0.0

53.2 0.0 2.7

59.9 0.0 2.5

61.6 80.1 0.0 0.1 5.0 18.1

84.7 0.0 14.4

84.0 0.0 0.0 84.8 12.5 14.6

0.0 0.0 88.7 87.6 11.1 8.4

83,162 89,162 8907 27,731 17,319 1604 5879 1516 534 Pashto Dari Persian 1st 2nd 1st 2nd 1st 2nd 0.1 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 1.0

Generation Buddhism Anglican Church of Australia Baptist 0.0 Western 0.0 Catholic Greek 99.0 Orthodox Islam 0.0 Judaism 0.0 No religion, so 0.9 described Totals 6871

0.0 0.0

0.1 0.0

0.1 0.1

0.1 0.0

0.7 1.4

99.1

97.1

97.3

97.1

38.4

0.0 0.0 0.6

0.0 0.1 2.6

0.1 0.2 2.3

0.0 0.1 2.6

0.2 21.1 36.1

1696

22,318 5614

22,318 5640

all religions. The small fall off in the relationship between Islam and heritage Persian might be linked to the greater numbers attaching to Baha’i, but also with some converting to Anglicanism and Western Catholicism in the second generation.

230 

J. Forrest

Religion and Language on the Indian Subcontinent Migrant streams from the Indian subcontinent are relatively recent and restricted to the first and second generations (Table 9.6). The major religions – Hinduism, Islam, Sikhism, and Buddhism among the Sinhalese – were all strongly associated with heritage language maintenance among immigrants. Among Pakistanis, Urdu was associated with Islam; Tamils and Gujaratis with Hinduism; Punjabis with Sikhism, and the people from Nepal with Hinduism. In Bangladesh and in India’s Western Bengal, Bengali was linked to both Islam (mainly) and Hinduism. Immigrants from Sri Lanka were split between Sinhalese speakers and Buddhism, and Tamils with Hinduism. Those recording no religion were few in both generations.

Religion and Language among the Chinese Relationships between religion and the Chinese languages used in Australia were comparable to the situation in Western Europe: varied and complex (Table  9.7). In all cases, though to varying degrees, the relationship was dominated by large proportions recording no religion. It was this category which displayed the greatest influence on heritage language maintenance. For speakers of Mandarin, slightly less so Cantonese, ‘no religion’ was noticeably more important than religious affiliation in maintaining both languages, though less so in the third generation. Among speakers of other Chinese languages/dialects (whether they are separate languages or dialects is still contested) (Wang, 1997), Buddhism was strongly associated with the maintenance of Min Nam, the language of South Eastern China and Taiwan. Western Catholicism emerges as especially important in heritage language maintenance among the Chinese languages. Relatively speaking, it was increasingly important in the second generation among Hakka and Min Nam speakers, and in the third generation among speakers of Cantonese and Mandarin. For these two major Chinese languages, there was also third generation evidence of a strong resurgence in the use of Cantonese and Mandarin at home. This was associated with a noticeable decline among those with no religion, along with upsurges in the third generation linked to Western Catholicism, Anglicanism and, among Mandarin speakers, the Uniting Church.

9  Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia 

231

Table 9.6  Religion and languages of the Indian subcontinent Generation Buddhism Anglican Baptist Western (Roman) Catholic Presbyterian Seventh-day Adventist Uniting church Pentecostal Hinduism Islam Sikhism No religion, so described Totals Generation Buddhism Anglican Baptist Western (Roman) Catholic Presbyterian Seventh-day Adventist Uniting Church Pentecostal Hinduism Islam Sikhism No religion, so described Totals

Tamil 1st 0.1 2.2 0.9 10.0

2nd 0.1 1.2 0.5 8.2

0.2 0.1

0.2 0.1

0.1 0.0

0.9 2.3 76.4 4.3 0.0 2.1

0.5 1.9 80.5 4.3 0.0 2.3

0.0 0.0 17.4 77.3 0.0 3.1

59,132 9436 Punjabi 1st 2nd 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.1 0.1

Bengali Hindi 1st 2nd 1st 0.5 0.3 0.3 0.1 0.0 0.4 0.2 0.2 0.2 1.2 0.9 2.5

0.0 0.0

2nd 0.2 0.3 0.2 1.1

Nepali 1st 2nd 9.9 6.7 0.1 0.2 0.5 0.4 0.3 0.3

0.1 0.0

0.1 0.1

0.2 0.0

0.1 0.0

0.0 0.1 0.0 0.3 11.4 80.9 84.7 4.9 0.0 5.6 2.6 3.3

0.4 1.0 77.5 12.3 2.9 3.6

0.2 0.2 85.6 0.2 0.0 2.8

0.1 0.2 86.2 0.0 0.0 5.6

41,969 8755 Gujarati 1st 2nd 0.1 0.1 0.1 0.2 0.1 0.0 0.3 0.1

97,561 19,168 53,722 4630 Sinhalese Urdu 1st 2nd 1st 2nd 75.7 81.0 0.0 0.0 1.7 0.6 0.2 0.1 0.3 0.3 0.1 0.0 17.2 13.9 0.8 0.2

0.0 0.0

0.0 0.0

0.2 0.0

0.2 0.0

0.1 0.0

0.2 0.0

0.1 0.0

0.0 0.0

0.0 0.0 13.6 1.2 83.2 1.6

0.0 0.1 9.9 0.8 87.3 1.7

0.1 0.0 88.5 3.4 0.0 1.2

0.1 0.1 94.3 3.5 0.0 1.3

0.3 0.8 0.3 1.4 0.0 1.8

0.2 0.7 0.1 0.5 0.0 2.4

0.1 0.2 0.3 96.0 0.7 1.3

0.0 0.1 0.1 98.3 0.4 0.7

104,167 20,731 41,645 7740 54,265 7616

52,497 11,941

232 

J. Forrest

Table 9.7  Religion and Chinese languages Cantonese 1st 2nd 21.9 15.4 2.5 2.5 4.5 3.7 8.1 9.7 0.1 0.1 0.1 0.1 1.5 1.7 0.1 0.1 1.3 0.9 1.1 0.6 57.7 63.8 189,775 50,575 Hakka Generation 1st 2nd Buddhism 25.1 17.1 Anglican Church of Australia 3.7 1.3 Baptist 1.8 1.3 Western (Roman) Catholic 38 39.9 Jehovah’s witnesses 0.1 0.2 Mormon 0.1 0 Presbyterian 1.1 0.7 Seventh-day Adventist 0.2 0.2 Uniting Church 0.5 0.3 Pentecostal 1.6 0.3 No religion, so described 25.9 37.2 Totals 5550 2129

Generation Buddhism Anglican Church of Australia Baptist Western (Roman) Catholic Jehovah’s witnesses Mormon Presbyterian Seventh-day Adventist Uniting Church Pentecostal No religion, so described Totals

3rd 11.4 9.5 2 15.7 0.4 0.2 2.2 0.2 2.1 1.3 49.5 1563 Wu 1st 19.5 2.9 1.8 4.4 0.3 0 1 0 0.9 0.5 68.3 2346

Mandarin 1st 2nd 3rd 15.7 8.3 5.8 1.7 2.6 13.4 1.7 1.9 2.3 3.3 5.6 18.8 0.1 0.1 0.7 0.1 0.1 0.3 1.1 1.2 1.8 0.1 0.1 0.1 1.2 1.3 3.7 0.8 0.8 0.9 72.6 76 47.3 462,892 65,071 3970 Min nan 2nd 1st 2nd 5.6 47.4 49.2 5.1 2.6 1.1 1.2 3.2 1 6.9 10.3 5.3 0 0.1 0.1 0 0.1 0 0.9 2.8 0.6 0 0.1 0.3 0.6 2.3 0.6 0 4.1 0.7 79.7 23.1 39.8 665 11,861 3332

Conclusions Despite the increasingly secular nature of Australian society, evidence presented here suggests important relationships between religious affiliations and intergenerational heritage language maintenance in a multifaith, multilingual, multicultural Australia. There are different views about the full meaning of the census data, from merely ‘census religionists’ who rarely engage in any meaningful way with their professed faith, to those who worship regularly (Bouma, 2006, pp. 50–52). But insofar as the census data represent some form of engagement with religion, the data also suggest, through cross tabulation with languages spoken at

9  Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia 

233

home, a relationship between the two, a context within which heritage language maintenance can be encouraged. However, as Buckingham (2021, p. 295) points out from heritage language maintenance experience in New Zealand and confirmed from the Australia experience (Forrest & Dandy, 2017; Forrest et al., 2020), in the more or less gradual intergenerational decline of heritage language use religion is only one factor. Clyne and Kipp (2006), for instance, regarded religion as a somewhat ambivalent factor in longer term heritage language maintenance. Use of a heritage language in a church liturgy may help, as may also holding services in a particular ethnic group’s home language. But this presupposes a significant and continuing residential concentration of ethnic groups which is contradicted by dispersion away from such enclave concentrations conceptualised in intergenerational spatial integration theory (Forrest & Kusek, 2021). Regular exposure in the home, especially after the second generation, is less attainable, though other factors can operate to challenge this situation (Buckingham, 2021, p. 301; Kheirkhah & Cekaite, 2015; Joo et al., 2020). Nevertheless, the weight of evidence from this study stresses an association of religion and religious groups with heritage language maintenance. Regular rejuvenation of heritage languages from new immigrants arriving from overseas, with religious groups continuing to provide a community focus for heritage languages, will help Australia to continue as a multilingual nation.

Note 1. https://www.abs.gov.au/websitedbs/censushome.nsf/home/tablebuilder

References Australian Bureau of Statistics. (2017). Census of Population and Housing: Cultural Diversity in Australia (No. 2071.0). ABS. Batrouney, T. (2006). Review Article: Language and Orthodox Churches in Australia. International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 180, 141.

234 

J. Forrest

Bouma, G. (2006). Australian Soul: Religion and Spirituality in the Twenty-first Century (pp. 52–55). Cambridge University Press. Buckingham, L. (2021). Heritage Language Maintenance in New Zealand. In U.  Lanvers, A.  S. Thompson, & M.  East (Eds.), Language Learning in Anglophone Countries (pp. 289–307). Palgrave Macmillan. Chik, A., Benson, P., & Moloney, R. (Eds.). (2019). Multilingual Sydney. Routledge. Clyne, M., & Kipp, S. (1997). Trends and Changes on Home Language Use and Shift in Australia, 1986–1006. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, 18, 451–473. Clyne, M., & Kipp, S. (2006). Tiles in a Multicultural Mosaic: Macedonian, Filipino and Somalis in Melbourne. Canberra Research School of Pacific and Asian Studies, Australian National University. Ding, S.  L., & Goh, K.  L. (2020). The Impact of Religion on Language Maintenance and Shift. Language in Society, 49, 31–59. Ennis, S. (2011). Religion, Spirituality and the Refugee Experience. Unpublished Thesis Submitted in Fulfilment of the Requirements for a Doctor of Philosophy, School of Global Studies, Social Science and Planning, RMIT University Melbourne, Australia. Forrest, J., & Dandy, J. (2017). Proficiency in English, Linguistic Shift and Ethnic Capital: An Intergenerational Analysis of Non-English Speaking Background Immigrant Groups in Sydney, Australia. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, 39, 111–123. Forrest, J., & Kusek, W. (2021). Assimilating the Diaspora of the Americas in Australia: An Intergenerational Analysis. Geographical Review. https://doi. org/10.1080/00167428.2021.1905485 Forrest, J., Poulsen, M., & Johnston, R. (2006). A “Multicultural Model” of the Spatial Assimilation of Ethnic Minority Groups in Australia’s Major Immigrant Receiving Cities. Urban Geography, 27, 441–463. Forrest, J., Benson, P., & Siciliano, F. (2020). Linguistic Shift and Heritage Language Retention in Australia. In S.  D. Brunn & R.  Kehrein (Eds.), Handbook of the Changing World Language Map (Vol. 2, pp. 1069–1086). Springer Nature. Galbally Report. (1978). Migrant Services and Programs: Report of the Review of Post-arrival Programs and Services for Migrants. Australian Government Publishing Service. Ho, C. (2013). From Social Justice to Social Cohesion. In A.  Jakubowicz & C. Ho (Eds.), ‘For Those Who Came Across the Seas …’: Australian Multicultural Theory, Policy and Practice (pp. 31–44). Australian Scholarly Publishing.

9  Multilingualism and Religion in a Multicultural Australia 

235

Joo, S. J., Chik, A., & Dionov, E. (2020). From My Parents’ Language to My Language: Understanding Language Ideologies of Young Australian Korean Heritage Language Learners at the Primary and Secondary School Level. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development. https://doi.org/ 10.1080/01434632.2020.1871359 Kheirkhah, M., & Cekaite, A. (2015). Language Maintenance in a Multilingual Family: Informal Heritage Language Lessons in Parent–Child Interactions. Multilingua, 34, 319–346. Omoniyi, T. (2006). Social Multifaithism and Multilingualism: A Sociology of Language and Religion Perspective (p. 52). In T. Omoniyi & J. A. Freeman (Eds.), Explorations in the Sociology of Language and Religion (pp. 121–140). John Benjamins. Perera, N. (2016). Tamil in the Temples – Temples Helping Heritage Language Maintenance in Australia. Multilingua, 15, 535–559. Rubino, A. (2010). Multilingualism in Australia: Reflections on Current and Future Research Trends. Australian Review of Applied Linguistics, 33, 17.1–17.21. Smolicz, J. (1981). Core Values and Cultural Identity. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 4, 75–90. Vertovec, S. (2007). Super-Diversity and Its Implications. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 30, 1024–1054. Wang, W.  S. Y. (1997). Language or Dialects? CUHK (Chinese University of Hong Kong) Journal of Humanities, 1, 54–62. Woods, A. (2005). Medium of Message? Languages and Faith in Ethnic Churches. Multilingual Matters.

10 A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language in the Twenty-­First Century Father Shenouda Mansour and Ounas Gerges

Introduction This chapter explores a process to revitalise the ancient Coptic language of Egypt. Today, the Coptic language is used as a liturgical language with only a handful of families in Australia using it as a means of communication in their homes. This chapter hopes to provide a framework in transforming the liturgical language into a local community language within the Coptic Community in Sydney. Maltz & Fox (1999) define a loss of a language as equating to “losing story, ritual and prayer”. This chapter offers a framework for the journey to revitalise a community’s history, ancient roots and identity in the language of their forebears. It aims to enrich the fabric of a diverse and pluralistic society in Australia.

F. S. Mansour (*) NSW Ecumenical Council, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] O. Gerges St Cyril’s Coptic Orthodox Theological College, Carlton, NSW, Australia © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_10

237

238 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

The broad framework for language revitalisation consists of two steps. The first step is to conceptualise the rationale for undertaking such a project by taking into consideration the needs and attitudes in the target community in which the language is being revitalised. The second step is the identification of relevant pre-existing models of language revitalisation which may provide a foundation upon which the revitalisation of the proposed language can be based. These two steps will provide a structure for this chapter as an outline to revitalise a sleeping language to introduce it as a living language within the Coptic community. The chapter first sets out the definitions and characteristics of the terms, “community” and “language revival and revitalisation” (Zuckermann, 2020). It provides an introduction to the Coptic language by outlining a brief history of the language and its associated community. Three pre-existing models of language revitalisation projects are explored involving other languages, namely Hebrew, Maori and Irish communities. In light of these models, the chapter reflects on which elements from these projects may be suitable as a framework to revitalise the Coptic language and synthesises a conceptual model. The chapter concludes with a description of current initiatives in the Coptic revitalisation project and the future direction of the project. The first author is a practising priest in the Coptic Orthodox Church in Australia. He is currently the General Secretary of New South Wales Ecumenical Council engaging with a large number of ethnic communities in Sydney. He has taught Coptic studies in a K-12 school in Sydney, developing his own curriculum of Coptic culture, identity and language. He considers his teaching of Coptic language and culture to be part of his responsibility to provide both cultural and spiritual leadership in his parish and in the school. The second author is a senior lecturer at St Cyril’s Coptic Orthodox Theological College in Sydney. His family is one of a few families in Sydney that communicates in the Coptic language in their home in Sydney. His extended family are able to communicate, write and send emails and phone texts in the Coptic language. His family has spoken in the Coptic language for generations and his forebears were champions of the Coptic language in teaching and publishing of a Coptic-Arabic dictionary in Egypt at the turn of the twentieth Century.

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

239

The authors acknowledge, besides the Coptic language being taught as a liturgical base within the structure of the churches in Sydney, there is limited development of cultural and linguistic identity for those who identify as an “Australian Copt” due to the lack of access to an active language and cultural knowledge. The history and culture of Coptic is not taught today in Egypt. Brown II states Coptic students in Egypt are required to memorize parts of the Koran and are deprived of learning about their Christian heritage in public schools (Brown II, 2000). If a comparison is made with the cultural identity of other immigrant groups in Australia, the fragile nature of the Coptic identity is highlighted. For instance, although identity is always complex, an Australian of Italian heritage has immediate access to what it is to identify as Italian, with access to an Italian speaking community, Italian media, and ongoing reference to existing origins in Italy. In contrast, Coptic-Australians have only their church community, arts and artefacts and the liturgical language. Thus, although to be an Australian Copt is less easily defined, the identification is an expression of both cultural heritage and religion.

Community The term “community” is widely used and understood in different contexts and with different focus. Ager describes three types of communities: the speech, political and ethnic community. The speech community is essentially a community of “people who use the same language” (Ager, 1997a) while a political community is defined as being governed by itself and can “decree that it will use one language…as its official means of communication” (Ager, 1997b). An ethnic community is one that is formed on the basis of ethnicity, traditions, customs and common origins, and can include a common language (Ager, 1997c). In the context of Australia, a community language is defined as any language other than English (Clyne, 1991). Community is expressed through its membership, a sense of belonging, its heritage and ethnicity, valuing the cultural identity and its language (Mansour, 2017). The Oxford dictionary defines community as “people living in one particular area or people who are considered as a unit because of their common interests, social group or

240 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

nationality” (Oxford Dictionary, n.d.). For the purpose of this chapter, “community” is used to refer to the people of a local Coptic parish church who have common goals and are brought together by their common ethnicity, identity, history, traditions, social and religious customs, including the Coptic language.

Language Revival or Revitalisation The terms ‘revival’ and ‘revitalisation’, with respect to language, are often used interchangeably in the literature to describe a renewal process in a language, where it has not been used, or is no longer used, as a spoken community language (Zuckermann, 2020). There has been some disagreement as to whether these terms should be used interchangeably. Spolsky states that “…it is a mistake to confuse the terms and assume that revival and revitalisation are the same thing” (Spolsky, 1995a). Language revitalisation is bringing to life to reengage with a lost language to new users, and not to bring it to its former status or glory of the past (Spolsky, 1995b). Nahir (1998a) in describing the process undertaken to revive the Hebrew language uses the term “speech revival”. In comparison, Spolsky prefers to utilize the term “revitalisation” to describe the same process (Spolsky, 1995b). Other terms used by scholars to describe this process include “nativization”; “renaissance”; “reactivation”; “normalization”; “revernacularization”; “revitalisation” and “full return” (Nahir, 1998b). Given the similarity in meaning, differentiating between the two terms would be of limited value and thus for the purpose of this chapter, the two terms are being used interchangeably. In this chapter, language revitalisation, in describing the bringing of new life and vitality to a dormant language, is the term that will be employed. Language revitalisation is a process that involves the efforts of engaging a community and connecting both home and school through a curriculum that is perceived as practical and enriching. Lee’s (2009) study of a Native North American language showed the importance of bilingual language programs in language revitalisation. In the case of Ireland, the Irish language revival focused on a revitalisation program of linguistic, cultural and heritage elements (O’Baoill, 2007).

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

241

Language revitalisation is defined by Baker as planning involving three language dimensions in status, corpus and acquisition planning (Baker, 2010). Status planning, Baker describes simply as “raising the status of the language within society” (Baker, 2010). Corpus planning is identified by Baker (2010) as modernizing the language and standardizing the language through grammar and spelling. Acquisition planning, according to Baker (2010), is defined as creating opportunities for intergenerational transmission, school immersion programs and adult learning language opportunity classes. In essence, language revitalisation only succeeds if the community supports the whole process (Baker, 2010). Fitzgerald (Fitzgerald, 2018) with the American Indigenous languages found the most effective process is a community-based approach where the project belongs to the community at the grass root level and academics. The importance of children’s learning emerges from Spolsky’s (1995a) writing where language revitalisation is “a situation where people start again to use a language as the language of the home and in particular to speak it to newborn children after a period where these uses were extinct”. For Fishman (1999a) it is a movement that has a two-process operation. The first is the restoration of intergenerational transmission as a “home language or mother tongue” (Fishman, 1999b). The second process is to take the language and restore it as a standard language by standardizing and modernizing the language. Hinton defines language revitalisation as “bringing it back into full use in all walks of life” (Hinton, 2001). In reviving a dormant language, giving it life with new users, there must be sustainability in having a community-based initiative to draw strength, partnership and networking to collaborate a holistic approach (Fitzgerald, 2018). This chapter will use the term language revitalisation for the following four reasons. Firstly, to indicate an understanding of our engagement with a language that is not currently used as a speech language. Secondly, to indicate our recognition, that this project shares the need for language planning status, corpus and acquisition in the revitalisation. Thirdly, revitalisation focuses on “sleeping languages” (Zuckermann, 2020). Finally, in alignment with other projects’ recognition of core principles, that there must be grass roots engagement of the community, a shift of perception, and an aim to build new young users.

242 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

The Coptic Language and Its Communities History The Coptic language has its origins in the Egyptian civilization spanning a history of six thousand years. Egypt was ruled by thirty-one dynasties (Kitchen, 1991) prior to the invasion by Alexander the Great in the 332 BC. After his invasion, he established the city of Alexandria, which became a place of learning, science, philosophy, Hellenic culture, language, and customs into Egypt. Bagnall (2002) describes the Alexandrian Library as a library that embraced all knowledge. Greek was introduced by the successors of Alexander the Great as the administrative language of the land (Emmel, 1991). Later, during the Roman period in Egypt, which commenced in 30 BC, the priests and the scribes of the Egyptian temples were the main users and scribes of the Hieroglyphs. They were also the only people that understood and wrote Demotic, which was a non-alphabetic writing system of the Egyptian language (Lewis, 1993). The last Demotic inscription dates back to the year 452  CE, and the natural demise of Demotic heralded the end of another era of the Egyptian language. The Coptic language is the last stage of the Egyptian language. Today, six major dialects have been identified in Coptic texts from antiquity: Akhmimic, Bohairic, Fayumic, Lycopolitan, and Mesokemic, and Sahidic. The Sahidic dialect is mostly used by academics. Most academic attention is focussed on texts in the Sahidic dialect. The Coptic Orthodox Church uses the Bohairic dialect as the official dialect for its rites and the liturgy, as it has done since the end of the first millennium AD. The word “Copt” is derived, via Arabic, from Greek Aigyptios, meaning “Egyptian”. The term is variously applied but is commonly used to refer to the Christian population of Egypt after the Arab conquest of 640 CE (Bagnall, 2001). In the present day, it refers specifically to the Coptic Orthodox denomination of the Christian community of Egypt. Coptic played a vital role in the decipherment of the hieroglyphs by Jean-François Champollion in 1822 (Weissbach, 1999–2000; Vliet, 2009). Wisse’s (1995) remarks on the Coptic manuscripts of the New

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

243

Testament indicate the work that is yet to be achieved: “we have scarcely begun to reap the harvest offered by the Coptic versions”. The studies of the ancient Biblical languages are important contributions in Biblical Studies (Dougherty, 1930). The Coptic Biblical texts are not only valuable for Biblical scholars but also for the advancement and the revitalisation of the Coptic language as a community speech language. Recent development by Wells (2007) in the Coptic New Testament led him to modernise the ancient texts to assist Biblical scholars in reading the Coptic New Testament in the Sahidic dialect. Dykes (2007) highlights the benefit of Wells’ new standardised Sahidic version, which allows easier reading, in line with the Greek New Testament. The benefits are focused on the corpus, eliminating abbreviations, standardisation of words and punctuation. With this new approach, the translation and commentary of Coptic texts from the golden age the Coptic era of the 4th to the 6th CE will allow large numbers of valuable manuscripts to be studied in English.

The Coptic Orthodox Church Today Under the late Pope Shenouda III (1971–2012), the church had grown in Egypt and in the diaspora caused by emigration of Copts from Egypt to the rest of the world. The Copts have taken the church of Egypt, and the Coptic language used in the liturgy, to their new lands. Australia is one such land of immigration. Today, Pope Tawadros II continues the support of the Coptic language and use in the Coptic communities in Egypt and in Diaspora. In the mid 1960s, the Copts migrated to Australia. The International Migration Digest Journal records three thousand people leaving Egypt in 1965, legally migrating to both Australia and Canada. The relaxation of immigration laws in 1966 then saw a flux of Coptic immigrants arrive to Australia. The Copts established the first Coptic Orthodox Society in 1967. Pope Cyril VI delegated the first priest to Australia in 1969, the Very Rev. Fr. Mina Nemetalla. The first Coptic liturgy conducted was on Australia Day, 26th January 1969 and from the humble beginnings of one priest in 1969, there are now two Dioceses of Melbourne and Sydney.

244 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

The Coptic community in New South Wales has grown since the first arrivals in the mid-1960s. The Coptic community in 2021 is represented through the Coptic Orthodox Diocese of Sydney and its Affiliated Regions with seventy-eight priests, thirty-four full deacons, and two deaconesses serving its community. In New South Wales there are thirty-­ eight churches, one monastery, a theological college, three Coptic schools, welfare agencies, mission beats, publication agencies, a radio program and a number of Coptic social organizations serving Sydney and abroad. Each parish has its own Sunday school and youth ministry serving its own local needs. The Diocese of Sydney and its Affiliated Regions estimated the Coptic population in New South Wales as approximately 60,000 (Attia, 2019). This significant Coptic community in New South Wales maintains its values, identity, culture, traditions and language through church communities. There are no statistical records maintained by the Coptic community either in Australia or in Egypt as to the number of individuals and families that speak Coptic beyond the church context. According to Gerges (2013), the Copts preserved their language up to the fifteenth Century through their writings, liturgical worship, and daily life as a community language through trade and economy. The authors are aware of a handful of families in Sydney that speaks Coptic. The overseas family of the second author converses in Coptic in their communication. It is the larger focus of this chapter to identify the best model, from other successful projects, for the revitalisation of Coptic language within the local Coptic community in Sydney, Australia.

Models of Other Revitalisation Projects Since the 1970s, there has been expanded academic study of endangered languages and how best to save them from extinction (Tsunoda, 2005). The number of the world’s languages is estimated between 5000–6000 spoken languages, with hundreds of languages already lost, and more in danger of disappearing. (Wurm, 1991, 1996) As language revitalisation is involved with identity reconstruction (Bolt, 2009), language identity and

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

245

culture all need to be considered as important components in language revitalisation. The rationale for language revitalisation projects is also shared across many Australian Indigenous languages, and minority languages in many other national contexts. Common to all projects is the question of strengthening identity, ancient roots, culture and the survival of a people’s history, embodied in language. The examples of revitalisation projects in other language communities presented below provide commonality and possible strategies for the Coptic revitalisation project. The following section presents a discussion of the Hebrew Revitalisation, largely drawn from the work of Nahir (1998a).

Hebrew Revitalisation At the turn of the twentieth Century, the Jewish people who were living in the Diaspora—Europe, North America, Asia, Africa and Oceania, all outside Palestine—did not speak their ancient language of Hebrew. The popular language amongst the Jewish community in Europe was Yiddish. Ben Yehuda, a Jewish Rabbi, led the Hebrew revival. Nahir described the transformation that occurred at the turn of the twentieth century as “miraculous” (Nahir, 1998a) Ben Yehuda set in order a movement that commenced with his own family learning and speaking Hebrew in the family home. This subsequently spread to his friends and extended family, then to the larger community, becoming a systematic and expanding framework of accepted use (see Rubinstein, Gross & Rutland, this volume). Prior to 1890, Hebrew was used only as a liturgical language. Today, there are over eight million speakers using Hebrew as a communicative language (Freeburg, 2013) primarily within the state of Israel. Nahir (1998a) identified four prime socio-cultural and sociolinguistic factors which acted as catalysts in the Hebrew revitalisation, namely communicative, political, religious and literacy factors. These four factors will be briefly examined in turn. It is very difficult for any community trying to revitalise a language, given the power of the majority language used in economics, trade,

246 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

education and political governance. The Irish experienced this difficulty in revitalising Gaelic in Ireland against the stronghold of English use. In order for a community to develop the ability to actively communicate, there must first be the creation of a need to communicate in the revival language (Nahir, 1998a). Without this basic execution, a community will not be able to achieve the planning goals set. A people must have a political drive, aspirations and motivations to use their language as a speech language. Fishman (1974) describes a political factor as being present when “a modern speech community wants its language to be …theirs, i.e. like them in some way, reflective of their individuality in some way, protective of their history in some way” (Fishman, 1974). The will of the Jewish people was the motivational drive for the political wave of migration to Palestine in the middle of the revival period in 1905. The political factor was a strong catalyst for the Hebrew revival. The Hebrew language (Nahir, 1998a) was the core religious identity of the Jewish people for two millennia. The recitation in Hebrew of the sacred Torah was a daily event practiced both at home and in the synagogues. The religious factor (Nahir, 1998a) provided three significant linguistic traits for the revival of Hebrew, namely that it kept the Hebrew language in a vernacular mode; the acquisition of Hebrew was passed from one generation to the next generation of Jewish males; and it provided a surety for Hebrew phonology to be passed on from one generation to the next. The religious factor assured that the acquisition of Hebrew as a written language was maintained. The literacy dynamics of translating from Yiddish into Hebrew (Spolsky, 1995a) was instrumental in the Hebrew revival. Katenleson-­ Shazar (1946a) states how important it was that the “transfer of the Hebrew language from a language of reading to a language of speech was done in the literature” (Katenleson-Shazar, 1946b). The tools of poetry, novel writing, the modification of the Hebrew grammar, and the full use of Hebrew into secular society paved the way for the Hebrew revival. Harshav (1990) maintains it was a total “communication infrastructure”. The power of literacy saw the not only the first Hebrew newspaper being established in 1895, but also news commentary, the teaching of science, essay and reference books as well as reviews and critiques, all in Hebrew. Furthermore, a wave of Hebrew grammar added to the changes that were needed for

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

247

the Hebrew language to be adopted as a community language and for literacy success (Nahir, 1998a). Literacy, in this case, created the communicative need. The above four factors played an important part in transforming Hebrew from a reading language into a spoken community language. Spolsky (1995b) observed the importance of an “intergenerational transmission” of language, where language is transmitted from generation to generation via adults to children, parents to children, and grandparents to grandchildren. The Hebrew experience required a new generation of children for an intergenerational transmission to commence. Having outlined the four factors vital to the successful revitalisation of the Hebrew language, Nahir (1998a) describes how a four-step process is essential for the usage of Hebrew in the absence of an “intergenerational transmission” normally present in actively used languages. An initial artificial transmission of language requires four steps of code (Nahir, 1998a): attitude; decoding the code; transferring the code out of school, and the code becoming the first language. In the typical transmission of an established living language, intergenerational transmission is the vital bloodline for language continuity. The children learn to decode the language and grow as young adults understanding the language code of communication. This generation then become the parents that will provide the intergenerational transmission both to their children and grandchildren. The underlying key to the Hebrew success was the effort placed on the future generation of the Jewish children that were educated in Hebrew, and they became the intergenerational transmitters of Hebrew. Nahir’s central focus is on the importance of children to instill a great desire for the Hebrew language. Hence, it is essential to grow in the children a positive attitude towards the revitalised language. The children were successfully taught the code, that is to read Hebrew. As the children grew, they took their language home and taught their own parents how to read and write in Hebrew. When they left school and took Hebrew into their chosen profession and daily life, the Hebrew language effectively became their first language. Nahir underlines the importance of engaging the educational hopes and enthusiasm of the children in the success of the

248 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

Hebrew revival (but note the contemporary trend as discussed by Cross and Rutland, and Gilead in this volume). Nahir (1998a) concludes that the Hebrew revitalisation provides hope for other language communities. Nahir posits both micro and macro planning. The micro agents are the grass root members of the community, which includes the children and the individual families, while macro elements are the school and in this case church institutions. Nahir’s study provides a systematic approach, schematic framework, and a micro and macro approach to language planning. Although there are areas of similarity and difference, a model for revival of the Coptic language may be developed from Nahir’s study of the Hebrew revival. This chapter now considers whether the language revitalisation experience of an Indigenous community also may offer strategies to the Coptic project. The New Zealand Maori experience is one such Indigenous community that has revitalised and maintained its language and identity.

Te Reo Maori Experience The Maori are the Indigenous people of New Zealand, whose origins stems from their migration from Ngai Mamoe in the late sixteenth century and Ngai Tahu in the late seventeenth century (Pawson & Egli, 2001). After two hundred years of subsequent European settlement in New Zealand, the Maori language was “threatened with extinction” (Spolsky, 2003). The missionaries introduced English for instruction in 1847 in Maori schools, which led to the beginning of the diminishment of the Maori language (Spolsky, 1995b). The pressure of English in New Zealand, as seen in Ireland, provided a challenge for bilingualism to be embraced by the Maori populace. Benton’s research (Benton, 1997) on the Maori language provides a meaningful understanding of the process responsible for the decline of the Maori language. The survey conducted by Benton (1997) in the Whangarei City showed the loss of Maori commenced around 1915. By 1935, only 40% could speak Maori, and by 1955, English was the only spoken language. The 1930s Depression added further pressure to speak English, due to the need for economic survival. By 1960 only a few Maori children

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

249

understood Maori. Maori was maintained and spoken in two communities Matawaia and Ruatoki (Benton, 1997), for they were the only two communities in New Zealand to succeed language vitality. The survey indicated the intergenerational transmission of the language did not have new generations to speak Maori. With the spread of television in English the Maori children embraced English as their spoken language. Spolsky (1995b) has noted Maori revival was grounded first in educating children in Maori. Language leaders and the Department of Maori Affairs directed their effort towards educating, specifically, pre-school aged children. In 1981, the first centre called, “kohangaro” (meaning language nest), was established. By 1982, there were four centres, 1984, 280 centres and by 1987, 500 centres (Spolsky, 1995b). These centres provided culture and language to the children before entering school. They provided a process for a reversal in language shift from English to Maori, without the basic ingredient of intergenerational transmission. Declaring Maori as an official language for all New Zealanders in 1986 paved the way for Maori instruction in schools. Spolsky (1995b) noted three different types of schools that showed the strength of the revitalisation and the depth of determination: bilingual programs; immersion programs and the “kurakaupapa Maori” which stands for Maori philosophy schools (Spolsky, 1995b). Of interest were the Kura Kaupapa institutions, which grew from 6 centres in 1990 serving 190 students to 38 centres serving 3000 students in 1995. By 1993, 335 other schools also provided Maori instruction, which only account 12.5% in schools and 1% of Maori children in the “kurakaupaparo” institutions. The maintenance of the identity, culture and preservation of the revival of the Maori language is today guaranteed through the successful establishment of intergenerational transmission by Maori children. Furthermore, the educational policy set in New Zealand will maintain the Maori identity and preserve their language. Spolsky (2003), in his visits to Maori schools, noted the Maoris were concerned with maintaining identity, creating Maori space in school classrooms, performing Maori ceremonies at schools and speeches in the Maori tongue. The “Kura Kaupaparo” centres in New Zealand will secure a minimum of 3000 students a year going through Maori and culture programs. The

250 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

inclusion of non-indigenous (non-Maori) children, and hence adults, has impacted the broader New Zealand population (see also Jarrett narrative, in this volume). Spolsky (2003) noted the importance of language practice, language ideology and language management. Language practice is defined as the choice between English and Maori, or a bilingual approach to meet the demands of economic, social and political situations and purposes. Language ideology is identified as community attitudes and social acceptance within the community. Language management relates both to institution or individual, approach to modify and clarify language practices through regulations and laws. The influx of Maori instruction in schools, educating children in Maori before entering school, State Maori education, Maori Television, Maori Radio, and newspapers and magazines in Maori all aid today in providing the physical, social, ethnic identity and cultural space that Maoris need to secure their future. The Maori experience may provide possible strategies for stepping-stones to implement for the Coptic project in Sydney, Australia. Our final example is in the Irish experience, which further illustrates the process of transmitting languages through school children. This description of the Irish language experience draws largely on the work of Laorie (1995a).

Irish Language Experience The Irish revival commenced at the turn of the previous century and is still in process (Laoire, 1995a). The Gaelic league (Laoire, 1995a) was instrumental to bringing the Irish revival to the platform at a national level. The movement was not in favor of replacing English with Gaelic, but rather to have children taught, at schools, the Irish language. The uniqueness of the language revival in Ireland, in contrast with the revitalisation of Hebrew and Maori, is that the Irish language belonged to Irish people and they are the custodians. This is unlike the Maoris and the Hebrew people who had to struggle to have their Indigenous language recognized. The Irish did not have to use any political muscle in order to convince the Irish government in Ireland for the need to return to their

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

251

Irish roots (Laoire, 1995a). The Irish did not have to compete for Irish space or for Irish culture amongst the Irish children. Yet, it may be argued that the Irish have had limited success in achieving an intergenerational transmission of their language to new generations, unlike the Hebrew and the Maoris. The following discussion focuses on the Irish experience and what may be learnt from it. The Gaelic league (Laoire, 1995a) was the political force that influenced Ireland’s educational policy for all students to receive a bilingual education. Irish was mandatory in primary school. Schools were given the responsibility to teach the language to the students half an hour a day, five days a week. Accordingly, as Laoire (1995b) comments, “the aim was to establish a Gaeltacht in each school” and “it was firmly believed that the language could be revived and revitalised by an effective system of teaching the language”. The Irish model had schools that took responsibility in teaching the language. The school’s immersion programs were effective for students to understand the Gaelic language within the school system. Corcoran (1925) believed that, “the popular schools can give and can restore our native language. They can do it without positive aid from the home”. The results indicate, due to economic and social pressures of survival, Gaelic did not overrule English, for English is maintained strongly as a language of trade, economics, commerce and government. The immersion programs in Ireland succeeded in having the Gaelic language taught in schools at a national level. However, the bilingual policy was not successful in transmitting the language to the hearts and minds of the students. Whilst the Irish had government and educational policy support, a language revival cannot be the result only of education in schools (Harbon & Moloney, 2017). An intergenerational transmission at home is needed to enforce the value, culture and language in practice. Laoire (1995a) highlights the need for the relationship between school and home in order to achieve an “informal intergenerational oracy”. The success of a language revival centres on the link between school and home. The immersion program in Ireland is a good model in regard to school language instruction for revival, as a firm foundation of language knowledge and depth. All that was needed in Ireland was to take the process one step further, just as in the Hebrew and Maori experience, and to have the introduction of radio, newspaper, magazines and

252 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

television in Gaelic. It is clear that a successful revitalisation of any language must have a focus on empowering children to learn the language, in conjunction with the other elements profiled above.

 Framework to Revitalise Coptic A in the Twenty-First Century Like other projects, the revitalisation of the Coptic language is a project that embodies the cultural and religious aspirations and identity of a community. The key question which arises is: What approach may be taken in order for revitalisation to occur? In order to set a broad plan and effective strategy, a conceptual framework to revitalise the Coptic language needs to be developed. One approach of many, is to consider proven language revitalisation projects from other communities as the basis for a framework for Coptic revitalization. The revitalisation of the Coptic language will be challenging as it is an ancient language that has not been spoken as a community language for centuries. The project must involve empowering children from a young age with the language. The literature review of the Hebrew, Maori and Irish experiences show clearly the importance of teaching children from pre-school. Both the school immersion program and intergenerational transmission at home are the key factors to reinforce, encourage, and motivate language skills and practice. It may be that setting a language, culture and art space in the Coptic schools, at the local Coptic Orthodox Church parish and at home, will generate passion and zeal in belonging to the Coptic language communities. It is connecting and motivating children to be learners and teachers for their parents and friends. We now move to addressing a methodological approach to revitalisation of Coptic in the twenty-first century.

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

253

Learning from Other Communities We hold that the analyses of Nahir (1998a), Spolsky (1995b); Bolt (2009) and Laoire (1995a) offer the beginnings of a suitable conceptual model for the following reasons. From Nahir (1998a), an important concept is the model of how a community may introduce intergenerational transmission of a language in the long term. Spolsky (1995b, 2003) provides a number of ideas as to how the Maori community’s interaction within society established Maori community language through the immersion programs in schools, establishment of radio, television, newspapers and magazines in their language. Laoire (1995a) showed how the Irish schools in Ireland were successful with their immersion programs to educate school children at schools, but without the intervention of the home or family. The Irish immersion model in teaching Gaelic is a valuable model for all community language schools to consider in revitalizing their community language. These three models above indicate some clear parameters for revitalizing languages within their respective communities. This now leads to a discussion of an appropriate conceptual model for Coptic in the twenty-first century.

Developing a Conceptual Model Figure 10.1 depicts a conceptual model for the revitalisation of the Coptic language. The model in Fig. 10.1 embraces strategies of intergenerational transmission, school immersion programs and community involvement. This project will utilize the terms, macro and micro-learning agents. Macro learning agents identify learning centres, such as, the home, the school and the community. Micro-learning agents identifies individuals, who are teaching agents. Effectively, micro learning agents are all the individuals that promote learning the revitalised language. The success of a revitalised language is a function of macro learning agents plus micro learning agents. Other variables that need to be added to the equation are variables that may be quantified or qualitative, such as: training and supply

254 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

Fig. 10.1  Conceptual model for the revitalisation of the coptic language in the twenty-first century

of qualified fluent teachers; level of motivation; level of language knowledge; level of understanding; level of desire; level of competence; level of ability; level of home support; level of community support, and the level of the ability to read, write and communicate in the language. Other qualitative variables reflect on the student’s self-esteem and self-­confidence in the language. Hence, the conceptual model is a function of the macro learning agents plus the micro learning agents combined with the number of variables that are both qualitative and quantitative as dynamic forces motivating the whole community in the desire to move forward towards a

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

255

Coptic revitalisation movement. All three areas of home, school and community need to work in harmony. In presenting the conceptual model, a strategy is needed to test the model. This chapter pauses to recognize the special role which has been played by Ounas Gerges’ Uncle, Picenti Rizkalla Gerges. Ounas Gerges reflects on the strategies used by his uncle to grow the language within the family and on his use of these same strategies in his own family learning. We reflect on how the conceptual model may be reflected in his lived experience.

 eflective Narrative: Family Leadership, R a Reflection by Ounas Gerges Since my childhood I have been seeing my uncle Picenti Rizkalla Gerges teach Coptic language to the family, his brothers, sister, spouses and the children. He concentrated especially on teaching the mothers and their children of all ages. My memories as a child growing up in my family surrounded by my uncle Picenti in teaching the Coptic language has influenced me in understanding the importance of teaching my own children at home. One sign my uncle posted in his home was, “Speak your language, the Coptic language”. This visual reminder encouraged language use by my whole family. When visitors came to visit my parents, they saw the signs posted throughout the home labelling objects in Coptic, chairs, doors, beds, table and so on, to reinforce the language, and it became concrete in my own mind. My uncle focused on my siblings and cousins with new words and phrases and taught us how they are used in a sentence. His gathered about twelve children every week to tell us a story in Coptic either from the Bible or story of a saint from the church. The story in Coptic always moved me personally and built my identity as Coptic. My uncle encouraged the whole household, my parent’s siblings and all their children to communicate in Coptic whenever we met as a family. My uncle encouraged that we greet each other on the telephone in Coptic. This allowed the practice of the language to become a living language within our homes in Egypt. Now looking back at my

256 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

uncle’s practice, I see him as a legend that has influenced me and my whole family. He also taught the monks and nuns in the monasteries and convents all over Egypt, in many churches and community halls. My uncle Picenti left a legacy in the many books he wrote in Coptic and a dictionary in Arabic-Coptic. After my parents migrated to Sydney I saw my father Anis Rameses Gerges teach in the Pope Shenouda III Coptic Theological College and the Australian Coptic Association gatherings. My father reflected his work through the painting of Coptic icons—he was an iconographer painter—many of the churches in Sydney still have his paintings. When I grew older, I in turn saw the need to teach Coptic language here in Sydney and follow my father and uncle’s footsteps. The Dean of the Pope Shenouda III Coptic Theological College Mr. Saad Israel, asked me to teach there, as the Senior Lecturer for the Coptic language. I started teaching there and also now teach in churches that invited me to start courses. I was invited by His Grace Bishop Daniel to teach a Stage 1 course to the congregation every week prior to His Grace’s Bible Study segment at St Mary’s Church at Bexley. I have taught in the churches of the Apostles and St Abanoub, in Blacktown, and at St Anthony and St Paul’s church in Guildford—stage 1 and stage 2—for many years. On Friday nights I have taught children the Coptic words of the hymns and parts of the liturgy. That way, instead of them just learning it by heart without understanding the meaning, they can know how to read and understand the words. This enables them to then concentrate on just learning the tunes. In many lectures and courses of Coptic that I have conducted, my wife would attend with me. So, she ended up learning how to read and write Coptic language well. As for the speaking part, she learnt that, by listening to us—speak to my parent and my siblings. When we had children, she encouraged me to speak to our children in Coptic and this is how I passed on conversational language to my children. Even in the individual case study scale, we can see the impact of the successful use of the home front, the school front and the church community front, in the work of the Gerges family language practice. We see the motivation of identity and belonging, and the need for the project to belong to, and emerge from the community. We analyse finally what

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

257

strategies may need to be used, to bring this revitalization to fruit, on a larger scale.

Strategies for This Project Revitalisation of the Coptic language is a project that would require the validation and effort of the Coptic community. To date, the Coptic language has only been used liturgically. The project first needs to acquire understanding of the perceived value of the Coptic language within the Coptic community, and attitudes to the proposed revitalisation project. This project will take the following approach to address this problem. On the Home and Community Front, there is firstly a need to assess the level of interest and support from the parents who are the direct link and educators of their own children. A survey will canvass attitude and support as well as their thoughts on revitalizing the Coptic language. Most parents of Coptic origin do speak more than one language, usually Arabic and English. To gauge their interest and ability in assisting their children, when they themselves have no knowledge of the Coptic language, will be of great value in developing an immersion program for home use. In the long term, parents may become intergenerational transmitters of the Coptic language. On the School Front, there is a need to assess the interest and level of support from the direct stakeholders. Thus, a questionnaire directed at school students learning Coptic at the Coptic schools as well as the Coptic language teachers will be necessary as well. The questionnaire will have a provision for students to provide their suggestions on how they may teach the revitalised Coptic language to others. Following analysis of data collected, educational curriculum will be designed in order to establish a language and history curriculum, development of immersion program for schools, and the development of identity program through Coptic art and history. On the Community Front, it is recognized that the community needs to take full ownership of this project. In order to initiate a positive attitude and canvas the level of community support and interest, focus group interviews and questionnaires will be addressed to the community.

258 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

Through the questionnaires, themes will be established to draw on the community’s experience and drive for revitalisation. On the Corpus acquisition front, much work is needed as this requires a full community involving partnerships and networking with academics at all levels, including Coptic schools and Saturday schools, universities, theological college and academics. Fitzgerald (2018) provides a framework on sustainability of language revitalisation in her approach in training teachers, having regular “Talking Dictionary Workshops”, language lab field classes to provide the basic day to day language communication through culture, arts and rituals in everyday life activities. The use of digital multimedia technology through recording of audio and other information technology in promoting the teaching and learning of Coptic language (Gerges, 2013). Fitzgerald (2018) provides her experience of decades in language revitalisation when the work is championed by only one person: it will fail and will die a natural death with the advocates of language revival. Instances of this are seen in school programs (Harbon & Moloney, 2017) where a head language teacher may build a successful language only to hear that it has died with their departure. The Corpus is a team of specialists working together for the common good of identity, culture and heritage.

Conclusion This chapter has introduced a project of language revitalisation for the ancient Coptic Language. It has considered a number of similar projects, in Hebrew, Maori and Irish. From these projects, the chapter has drawn a number of common principles, which will be appropriate to the Coptic project. The wide literature on language revitalisation offers a framework in projects and research on language revitalisation. The review of the literature on language revitalisation allowed a framework to be drawn from other language communities’ experience of revitalisation. It is vital to draw on the wealth of experience on the process that took place in the revitalisation of Hebrew, Maori and Irish to establish a framework in the revitalisation of Coptic. The review clearly suggests that the success of the design of the Coptic project must rest on the involvement of the home,

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

259

school, and community. The setting of the questionnaires and focus groups will require qualitative and quantitative analysis of attitudes on the home and community front. The classroom-based research will draw on the principles of action research to draw on the school community’s values and perceptions, attitudes and level of motivation, and to progressively implement and assess appropriate teaching strategies. The project looks towards the analysis of these strategies in the construction of an effective framework for the revitalisation of Coptic in the twenty-first century.

References Ager, D. (1997a). Language, Community and the State (p. 1). Intellect Books. Ager, D. (1997b). Language, Community and the State (p. 3). Intellect Books. Ager, D. (1997c). Language, Community and the State. Intellect Books. Attia, M. (2019). Representative from the Diocese of Sydney and its Affiliated Regions. Verbal. Bagnall, R. (2001). Copts. In D. B. Redford (Ed.), The Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient Egypt (pp. 302–307). Oxford University. Bagnall, R. (2002). Alexandria: The Library of Dreams. Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, 146, 348–362. Baker, C. (2010). Foundations of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism (p. 50). St Nicholas House. Benton, R. A. (1997). The Maori Language: Dying or Reviving? Distributed by ERIC Clearinghouse. New Zealand Council for Educational Research, Wellington & Hawaii University, Honolulu. East-West Centre. Bolt, R. (2009). Urban Aboriginal Identity Construction in Australia: An Aboriginal Perspective Utilising Multi-Method Qualitative Analysis. The Faculty of Health Sciences Sydney, The University of Sydney. Brown II, S. (2000). The Coptic Church in Egypt: A Comment on Protecting Religious Minoritiesfrom Nonstate Discrimination. Brigham Young University Law Review, 3, 48. Clyne, M. (1991). Community Languages: The Australian Experience. Cambridge University Press. Corcoran, T. (1925). The Irish Language in Irish Schools. Studies: An Irish Quarterly Review, 14, 377–388.

260 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

Dougherty, R. (1930). The Scope of Biblical Archaeology. The Journal of Religion, 10, 333–348. Dykes, Gary (2007). On Joseph Warren Wells Coptic Text. At: http://www. biblical-­data.org/coptic/Wells_text.pdf Emmel, S. (1991). Coptic Language. In D. Freedman (Ed.), The Anchor Bible Dictionary (Vol. 4, pp. 180–188). Double Bay Books. Fishman, J. (1999a). Second Language Learning. In J. Fishman (Ed.), Handbook of Language and Ethnic Identity (pp. 181–192). Oxford University Press. Fishman, J. (1999b). Second Language Learning. In J. Fishman (Ed.), Handbook of Language and Ethnic Identity (p. 185). Oxford University Press. Fishman, J. A. (1974). Advances in Language Planning (p. 23). Contribution to the Sociology of Language, Mouton. Fitzgerald, C. (2018). Creating Sustainable Models of Language Documentation and Revitalisation. In S. Bischoff & C. Jany (Eds.), Insights from Practices in Community-Based Research. Trends in Linguistics, Studies and Monographs Series (Vol. 319, pp. 94–111). De Gruyter Mouton. Freeburg, E. (2013). The Cost of Revival: The Role of Hebrew in Jewish Language Endangerment. Yale University. At: https://ling.yale.edu/sites/default/files/ files/alumni%20senior%20essays/Freeburg,%20Elizabeth%20-­% 20 Senior%20Essay.pdf Gerges, O. (2013). A Brief Tour of the Coptic Language Free the Copts, From Ancient Glory to Modern Oppression (pp.  83–87). The Australian Coptic Movement Association Ltd. Harbon, L., & Moloney, R. (Eds.). (2017). Language Teachers’ Stories from Their Professional Knowledge Landscapes. Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Harshav, B. (1990). Masa al txiyathalashonha’ivrit [An Essay on the Revival of Hebrew]. Alpayim, 2. Hinton, L. (2001). Language Revitalisation: An Overview. In L.  Hinton & K.  Hale (Eds.), The Green Book of Language Revitalisation in Practice (pp. 3–18). Academic. 5. Katenleson-Shazar, R. (1946a). Nedudey Lashon (A Language Wandering). In In Masot Urshimot [Essays and Sketches] (pp. 9–22). Katenleson-Shazar, R. (1946b). Nedudey Lashon (A Language Wandering). In In Masot Urshimot [Essays and Sketches] (p. 18). Kitchen, K. (1991). The Chronology of Ancient Egypt. World Archaeology, 23, 201–208.

10  A Framework for the Revitalisation of the Coptic Language… 

261

Laoire, M. (1995a). An Historical Perspective on the Revival of Irish Outside the Gaeltacht, 1880–1930, with reference to the Revitalisation of Hebrew. Current Issues in Language and Society, 2, 223–235. Laoire, M. (1995b). An Historical Perspective on the Revival of Irish Outside the Gaeltacht, 1880–1930, with Reference to the Revitalisation of Hebrew. Current Issues in Language and Society, 2, 230. Lee, T. (2009). Language, Identity, and Power: Navajo and Pueblo Young Adults’ Perspectives & Experiences with Competing Language Ideologies. Journal of Language, Identity, & Education, 8, 307–320. Lewis, N. (1993). The Demise of the Demotic Document: When and Why. The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology, 79, 276–281. Maltz, A., & Fox, D. (1999). To Set Tongues Wagging Again: Endangered Languages of the Hidatsa, Mandan and Arikara. In N.  Ostler (Ed.), Endangered Languages and Education (pp.  23–30). St. Patrick’s College, Maynooth, National University of Ireland: FEL Conference. At: http://www. ogmios.org/conferences/1999/proceed1999.htm Mansour, S. (2017). Investigation of Attitudes to Identity, Culture and Language in a Coptic School Community. Available at: http://hdl.handle. net/1959.14/1268418 Nahir, M. (1998a). Micro Language Planning and the Revival of Hebrew: A Schematic Framework. Language in Society, 27, 335–357. Nahir, M. (1998b). Micro Language Planning and the Revival of Hebrew: A Schematic Framework. Language in Society, 27, 358. O’Baoill, D. (2007). Origin of Irish Education: The Dynamic Core of Language Revitalisation in Northern Ireland. The International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism, 10, 410–427. Oxford Dictionary. (n.d.). Online Free Dictionary. At: http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/page/askoxfordredirect Pawson, E., & Egli, H. R. (2001). The Alps in Europe and the Southern Alps in New Zealand. Mountain Research and Development, 21, 350–358. Spolsky, B. (1995a). Conditions for Language Revitalisation: Comparison of the Cases of Hebrew and Maori. Current Issues in Language and Society, 2, 178. Spolsky, B. (1995b). Conditions for Language Revitalisation: Comparison of the Cases of Hebrew and Maori. Current Issues in Language and Society, 2, 177–201. Spolsky, B. (2003). Reassessing Maori Regeneration. Language in Society, 32, 553–578.

262 

F. S. Mansour and O. Gerges

Tsunoda, T. (2005). Language Endangerment and Language Revitalisation. Mouton de Gruyter. Vliet, Jacques van der. (2009). The Copts: ‘Modern Sons of the Pharaohs’? Church History and Religious Culture, 89, 279–290. Weissbach, M. (1999–2000). Jean Francois Champollion and the True Story of Egypt. In 21st Century Science Tech (pp. 26–39). Wells, Joseph (2007). Sahidica  – A New Edition of the New Testament in Sahidic Coptic. At http://www.biblical-­data.org/coptic/Sahidic_NT.pdf. Wisse, F. (1995). Coptic Versions of the New Testament. In B. D. Ehrman & M. W. Holmes (Eds.), The Text of the New Testament in Contemporary Research: Essays on the Status Quaestionis (p. 139). Wurm, S. (1991). Language Death & Disappearance: Causes and Circumstances. Diogenes, 39, 1–18. Wurm, S. (1996). Atlas of the World’s Languages in Danger of Disappearing. UNESCO Publishing. Zuckermann, Ghil’ad. (2020). Revivalistics: From the Genesis of Israeli to Language Reclamation in Australia and Beyond. Oxford University Press.

11 Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational Sojourners Lisa Gilanyi

Introduction This chapter explores the interaction of language and religion in the context of transmigration. Whereas migration has traditionally been understood as a one-way, permanent relocation that involved severing ties with an old location (Poot et al., 2008), there is an increasing tendency in the modern world towards mobility, leading to new patterns of migration such as transmigration, involving temporary or back and forth movements, multi-stranded, cross-border engagement (Faist et al., 2013) and multiple points of dwelling (Duff, 2015). As a result, more people than ever are faced with renegotiating their identities in new contexts characterised by multiple attachments spanning different geographical and ideological spaces (De Fina, 2016). One new category of migrant that has grown out of this increase in mobility and transmigration is transnational sojourners  – temporary

L. Gilanyi (*) University of New South Wales, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_11

263

264 

L. Gilanyi

migrants who are living in another country for a particular purpose but intend to return to their home countries (Bochner, 2006a). Although they are living temporarily in another culture, transnational sojourners often maintain very strong social ties with their countries of origin and are deeply committed to maintaining their religious and cultural heritage, and ensuring it is transmitted to their children. Certainly, this can also be the case for many permanent migrants; however, the knowledge that they will be returning home may make the maintenance of religion and culture even more pressing for transnational sojourners (Bochner, 2006b; Duff, 2012; Berry & Sam, 2016). Whilst researchers have explored how language and religion are impacted by permanent migration, few researchers have considered how these two important aspects of identity interact in transnational sojourners’ lives. There is some research in the context of transmigration that considers transnational sojourners religious experiences (Garz et  al., 2014; Levitt, 2004; Wuthnow & Offutt, 2008)or their language use and acquisition (De Fina & Perrino, 2013; Gearing & Roger, 2018; Pavlenko, 2004); however, there is a distinct lack of research that considers both issues, highlighting the need for studies that consider the intersection between transnational sojourners’ linguistic and religious identities and practices. Drawing on Darvin and Norton’s (2015) model of investment (Darvin & Norton, 2015a) as a theoretical lens, this study aims to explore what relationship, if any, there is between transnational sojourners’ religious practices during their time abroad, and their investment in using and learning the language of the host country. This relationship is explored in the context of one particular group of transnational sojourners in Australia: partners of international students. Partners of international students are defined as life partners who accompany their student partner to Australia for the duration of their studies but will return to their home countries and the conclusion of the period of study. The current study seeks to answer the following research question: How do transnational sojourners’ religious identities impact on their investment in learning and using English while in Australia?

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

265

Literature Review Many researchers investigating permanent migrant communities have identified links between religion and language (Blackledge & Creese, 2012). For example, maintaining a heritage language has been found to play an important role in socialising children of migrants into the religious and cultural norms of their heritage communities (Gregory et al., 2013; Mills, 2004). At the same time, religious practices have been found to be an important means by which migrants maintain the language of their home countries (Dzialtuvaite, 2006) (Fernandez & Clyne, 2007), helping to affirm their attachment and sustain a connection with the homeland. Religion can also play an important role in acculturation and language learning. On one hand, it can support migrants’ adjustment to a new home and culture, with religious institutions playing an important role in settlement through the provision of services such as language classes (Souza, 2016). On the other hand, religion can also hinder acculturation; for some migrants, the desire to sustain a cultural or religious identity that is different from the religion of the host country may lead to them socially isolating themselves from the mainstream society and negatively impact on their engagement in learning its language (Schumann, 1986a). What is clear is that the relationship between language and religion for permanent migrants is impacted by a diverse range of factors and varies considerably between both communities and individuals. Whilst the research findings cited above suggest that for permanent migrants, language and religion are often intertwined it is too simplistic to assume that there is always a direct relationship of mutuality between language and religion. Indeed, religions are often not tied to single languages or cultural groups and may be practiced or transmitted in multiple languages (Woods, 2004a). For example, in the modern world, neither Islam nor Christianity – the religious affiliations of the two case studies in this chapter – can be identified with one particular language. Although Islam is closely related to the Arabic language, it is practiced in many non-Arabic speaking nations, including Pakistan, Iran, Malaysia, Indonesia and Australia. Furthermore, while the language of the Koran remains Arabic, many practising Muslims do not speak Arabic and rely

266 

L. Gilanyi

on their clergy’s familiarity with it to interpret the Koran (Safran, 2008). Similarly, Christianity is practiced in many languages, and the Bible has been translated into more than 700 languages (Wycliffe Bible Translators, 2021). This question of how closely language is tied to religious practice was explored in Chew (2014)’s study of three Singaporean madrasahs (Chew, 2014a), which found that each madrasah used a different language to instruct children in Islam: Arabic, Malay or English. In noting the paradox inherent in the English language being used as a tool for teaching concepts and prayers that are found in Arabic, Chew observed that this choice was largely a response to globalisation and the dominant use of English in transnational families. However, the choice of language, was not entirely without ideological roots, and in fact, also reflected the ideological position of each madrasah; the Arabic-medium madrasah took a very traditional position, whereas the English-medium madrasah was found to be more liberal in the way it taught Islam, actively aligning itself with the modern world. So, whilst it is feasible to use different languages to transmit the same religion, it would seem that language choice may also be impacted by the particular ideological position adopted by the instructing institution. As this brief survey of literature has shown, there can be considerable variability in how language is used in religious practice. The relationship between language and religion is not one of simple mutuality. In the context of migration, although maintaining the language and religion of the homeland may often be closely connected activities, this is not always the case and in fact religion can also provide opportunities for engaging the language of a host nation. Further, Chew (2014)’s study highlights the important role that external factors such as globalisation and language ideology may play in shaping how language and religious practice intersect in transnational contexts. However, there remains a need for more research that focuses on transnational sojourners’ religious and language practices. The current study therefore contributes important empirical research on the relationship between language and religion, exploring how religious identity impacts on transnational sojourners’ investment in learning and using English while they are in Australia.

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

267

Theoretical Framework The relationship between religious identity and transnational sojourners’ engagement in learning and using English is explored through the lens of Darvin and Norton’s (2015) model of investment (Darvin & Norton, 2015b). Investment frames an individual’s engagement in second language learning as a considered and purposeful choice, made in anticipation of a return that would give access to previously unattainable symbolic and material resources and identity positions (Norton Peirce, 1995). Darvin and Norton’s (2015) model expands on the construct of investment by acknowledging the impact that globalisation and changes to migration patterns have had on language learning. They argue that individuals invest in learning a new language in order to gain access to capital or identity positions, but, as they move into new spaces, their investment is also shaped by both the ideologies they encounter and those they ascribe to themselves. Investment is therefore impacted by three competing influences: capital, identity and ideology. Capital refers to the resources or benefits that can be gained through language learning, including economic capital (for example money, property), cultural capital (education and other forms of knowledge which may bring benefit), and social capital (resources available through relationships) (Bourdieu, 1977, 1986, 1991). Identity is based on the post-structural view of identity as dynamic, multiple, context dependent and often contradictory, and includes religious identity (Blackledge & Pavlenko, 2001; Block, 2003, 2007; Pavlenko, 2002; Weedon, 1987). Ideology refers to sets of ideas and beliefs, including religious beliefs, that shape the way individuals understand the social world and position themselves within it. The model of investment provides a useful framework for examining the relationship between religious identity and language learning since it acknowledges that an individual’s identity, including their religious identity, may change as they move between different contexts. It also considers the impact of the ideologies that may shape or constrain their investment in learning a language. In the context of this study, ideology was relevant, both at a personal level, in terms of the participants’ religious beliefs; and more broadly, as seen in the role of language ideologies

268 

L. Gilanyi

that position English as a valuable, global commodity. The framework also points to the various forms of capital that may impact individuals’ investment in language, including the social and cultural capital that may be accessed through affiliations with particular communities, as well as the economic capital that may be obtained through English. Finally, the intersectional nature of the model of investment highlights the competing nature of each of these factors in shaping an individuals’ investment in learning and using a language, thereby accounting for apparent contradictions in the choices they make.

Methodology The case studies presented in this chapter were part of a larger study that investigated the factors that impacted on transnational sojourners’ investment in learning English during their sojourns in Australia. A multi-case study design was adopted as the main organisational feature and seven partners of international students studying at Australian universities were recruited using a snow-balling technique (Silverman, 2013). Two of these participants were chosen for inclusion in this chapter because of the significant role religion played in their lives. Whilst Anne described herself as having a fairly nominal Christian faith when she arrived in Australia, she experienced a strong deepening of this faith. Fitri, on the other hand described herself as a devout Muslim with a deep commitment to maintaining her faith while she was in Australia. To investigate the relationship between language and religion and its impact on the study of participants’ investment in learning English, I employed narrative inquiry, generating narrative data through interviews. Narratives, or stories, can be seen as strategic ways of thinking that allow individuals to create order in their lives (Freeman, 2016), and to construct and understand the meaning of events (Merleau-Ponty, 1973; Polkinghorne, 1988a; Vygotsky, 2012). They provide a mechanism for linking and understanding individual events (Polkinghorne, 1988b) and allow people to meaningfully situate themselves and their activities within the world (Barkhuizen et al., 2014). In this study, the act of sharing their stories during interviews, allowed both the research participants and me,

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

269

as the researcher, to make sense of their experiences as transnational sojourners in Australia. Narrative inquiry aligns with a constructivist view of research as a relational activity (Ponterotto, 2005). It is based on the premise that understanding another person’s experience is best achieved through relationship with them (Caine et al., 2013) and so for this reason I took a longitudinal approach, interviewing participants over a period of more than a year. As well as allowing for the development of closer relationships with participants, a longitudinal approach allowed me to capture the depth of their life experiences (Saldaña, 2003) and explore the temporal shifts that occurred in their understanding of these experiences (Sinclair Bell, 2011). This was particularly important in Anne’s case as I was able to share the distress and challenge of her cancer diagnosis and treatment, but also the unfolding development of her faith resulting from these experiences. Narratives were generated through multiple interviews with each participant, using a very loosely structured interview format. Because my focus was on eliciting the participants’ stories, questions were generally open-­ ended, used only to guide and focus interactions (Kim, 2016a), and interviews were often more like guided conversations. Although it was not my original intention to focus particularly on religion, this was a key feature of the narratives shared by both Anne and Fitri. To analyse the narrative data, I took both a ‘narrative analysis’ and ‘analysis of narrative’ approach (Polkinghorne, 1995). For narrative analysis, I used narrative processes to reconfigure the participants’ narratives into stories that addressed the research aims. These can be described as renderings of the  research data and results (Coulter & Smith, 2009). Drawing on the entire data set, including interviews, field notes and observations, I reconstructed each participant’s narrative as a chronological story, written from their perspective. I tried to use their actual words where possible but have also adopted narrative smoothing (Kim, 2016b; Spence, 1986), synthesising long sections of dialogue and adjusting for irregularities in grammar and syntax to ensure a coherent, engaging text. The result of this process is the restoried narratives (Ollerenshaw & Creswell, 2002) presented below, that synthesise the key findings of the research.

270 

L. Gilanyi

Analysis of narrative involved thematically analysing the participants’ narratives using Darvin and Norton’s (2015) theoretical model as a framework for interpretation to deductively explore how each of the three factors: capital, ideology and identity, interacted with each other to shape Anne’s and Fitri’s investment in English. The results of the analysis of narratives are presented below in the discussion section.

Findings The key finding of this study is the significance of religion, both as marker of identity and an ideology, that shaped the Anne’s and Fitri’s daily lives and impacted on how they invested in using and learning English. However, Anne’s and Fitri’s cases, presented below as analytical narratives, illustrate two very different pathways. For Fitri, the knowledge that she and her family would return to Indonesia made the need for maintaining her religion and transmitting it to her children, a pressing concern. At the same time, the perceived ideological differences between her religious identity and what she saw as mainstream ‘Australian’ values often acted as a barrier to interacting with English speakers, thus limiting her opportunities to use English. In contrast, for Anne, time away from her homeland gave her the freedom to explore her religious identity, enabling her to create new allegiances and develop a sense of belonging to the local community (Levitt, 2003), and it was the social connections she established through her local Catholic church that provided her with a valuable source of language development. However, the relationship between language and religion was far from linear and the analytical narratives below highlight some surprising findings that point to the complicated interplay between an individual’s religious identity and their learning and use of English.

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

271

F itri’s Narrative: “I don’t think English is part of my culture or identity. It’s just something I can use” One of the main reasons we chose to study abroad was so our kids could improve their English, but also learn a different culture and have different experiences. Of course, my husband will get a PhD but it’s like fishing – the PhD is only the bait, but the fish is English. I want my kids to become global citizens like my husband and maybe study abroad when they are older. And for that they need English. It’s the global language. When we first arrived in Australia, we spoke a mix of Bahasa Indonesian and English with the kids, but after a while, if we talked to them in Bahasa they would say, “please talk in English”. I actually prefer they speak English. I’m not worried if they forget Bahasa. Once they speak English really well, we will practice Bahasa with them, so they are prepared before we go back home. Now my husband only speaks to the kids in English and they also speak to each other mostly in English. If they start speaking Bahasa, my husband reminds them to speak in English, because they still need to practice more. Sometimes when my daughter speaks to me in English, I don’t understand but she can’t explain it because she says, “I don’t know in Indonesian”. The kids also correct my English now. I didn’t expect that, but I’m happy they can speak so well! While I want my kids to learn English, it is also really important that they value and understand their own culture and religion. Sometimes I’m worried that they will learn things in Australia that I don’t want them to learn and in some ways we will need to undo the experiences they have had. I have to focus on teaching them my culture – my Muslim culture, but it is difficult. For example, my 12-year-old daughter’s friends wear short shorts and she wants to wear them too. In Indonesia, she would start wearing hijab when she reaches puberty but here I will allow her not to wear hijab so she can enjoy herself. But she also needs to learn her culture so when she starts to wear hijab in Indonesia she will understand and value it. Now I give her freedom to not use hijab but in Indonesia, it’s a must at her age. She has also started doing dance – cha cha and Western dances like that – and the costumes are tiny. At first I was like “oh, my God!” but now I’m ok. But that won’t be possible in Indonesia!

272 

L. Gilanyi

Australia is a liberal, multicultural and multi-religious country. It is different in my country where most people are Muslim. It makes it difficult to practice my religion. There I can pray everywhere but here I have to find a mosque. It makes me feel different or uncomfortable when I have to look for somewhere to pray – like I’m a minority. There are also many things about Australian culture I find difficult. For example, I see men kissing everywhere, and I cannot tolerate the alcohol. People have many problems when they drink alcohol and that’s why in my religion we cannot tolerate it. Although sometimes I am still confused about what Australian culture is and who is Australian. When I look at some people – who don’t have blue eyes – and I see they don’t do good things, I think maybe they are not Australian. Maybe they are from another country, just like me, or an immigrant? We support our religion by meeting with other Indonesian Muslim international students and their families. We meet once a week for a social gathering and so the kids can learn how to read the Koran. Our Koran is in Arabic, so they have to learn the alphabet in Arabic. The teachers are volunteers – other Indonesian Muslim students. It’s similar to what would happen in our community life in Indonesia, except they speak English with the children. That makes me happy. The kids are learning about the Koran – not just about the Arabic, but also what it teaches, like respecting your parents – but they are learning it in English. It would probably be easier to do it in Indonesian but all the parents want their children to improve their English. This network is also important for me because I can be with people who share my religion. At work, some of my friends ask me, “Why do you use hijab? Can’t you take it off while you’re working and use it only when you’re with your family?” And I say, “no, it is my role, it is my religious role.” But they can’t understand because they don’t know about Islam. But the people I work with are still my friends. I have friends from the Philippines, China, Brazil, Bangladesh. I want to improve my English so I can be a better partner for my kids. I don’t think English is part of my culture or my identity. It is just something I can use. It is a Western thing, a white thing and I’m not Western.

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

273

 nne’s Narrative: “I feel a lot of peace here….I have A so many things to give thanks to God for” We came to Australia for my husband’s PhD because his employer said he had to do it at an English-speaking university. I didn’t really think about language but when I arrived I thought, “Oh my God, I can’t speak Spanish here! What should I do?” In my English classes in Costa Rica, we just said something in Spanish and they translated it. I thought I had good English but when I came here, I thought, “oh my English is so bad!”. The accent was totally different and then people just spoke too fast. I had to ask three times when I didn’t understand, and it was so embarrassing. It wasn’t just the language. There are a lot of cultural differences between Australia and Costa Rica. Here it’s quieter and people are not so friendly. No-one talks to you. Not even hello, or how are you. I experienced that at work because when I first started no-one came and said hello or anything. And I don’t know any of my neighbours. I’ve never spoken to them. But at least Australia is a multi-cultural country and that makes it easier for people who come here. There are people from a lot of cultures – you see the different faces, the colours, how they dress…. In the US, you hear the way they talk about Latin people and you feel rejected. It’s not the same in Australia. They accept you as you are. It was really difficult for me to leave Costa Rica. I was really happy at first, when my husband got a scholarship, but then I was shocked and sad because I had to close my business and leave my home, my family, my dogs. You lose everything – you have to leave everything behind. When we arrived, I felt like I didn’t belong here – I didn’t exist anymore. In Costa Rica, I didn’t go to church much – maybe once a month because I had to. I’m a believer in God but I wasn’t into the formal part. But here I felt so lonely, I needed to do something and one of my aunts suggested I could go to church. So, one day when I was feeling really depressed, I was just walking around and I found a church. I went in and the priest happened to be there, and I told him how lonely I was. He invited me to lunch and then introduced me to a lady from Mexico who was a missionary and we became friends. They wanted to send me to the Spanish-speaking church, but I wanted to go to the English one so I could improve my English. They also have a group

274 

L. Gilanyi

at uni and this is where I met my friends. We [go]to church but we also socialise together. These people are more friendly – like I was looking for. They really listen to you and care. Through church here I’ve met people my own age and also old people and I really enjoy it because it’s real, like a family. At first, it was difficult with the language, but they helped me with that, and I also used my phone to translate the words. I know the prayers in Spanish but I wanted to learn them in English. I was also a bit nervous speaking English but not anymore. I ask my friends to correct my English but they never do! But they teach me some words or sayings. Now I use English most of the time. I only use Spanish when I talk to my husband or my family in Costa Rica. Being with this group has helped my English but it has also helped me spiritually. After I was diagnosed with cancer, I went back to visit my family in Costa Rica. I decided I wanted to come back to Australia for my treatment. I feel a lot of peace here. In Australia, I have the opportunity to go to church, to go to the chapel and the missionaries’ house and all that is a big thing I don’t have in Costa Rica. My group of friends from church really supported me through my treatment as well – visiting me, cooking for me and praying for me. Someone even lent me their car while I was having chemo. We are very close now because of what has happened. Like I said, when I first came here, I felt like I was losing everything. But now I understand that it’s something like adaptation – an improvement in which I had to lose some things but now I have more. Even with the cancer, I can say, after that, I had this experience, this happened, it was positive. For example, I have a deeper relationship with my friends at church now and it’s made me trust God more. It’s also made me think more about other people and I pray that God will use my sickness to convert other people; that it would help people to get to know God or to get closer to Him. This time in Australia has changed me. When I look at photos from when I was in Costa Rica, I look a bit sad. And I feel now like I have had all the treatment and maybe my body doesn’t look as nice as it did before, but I feel happy. I feel like I have so many things to give thanks to God for.

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

275

Discussion Darvin and Norton’s (2015) model of investment, and the constructs of capital, ideology and investment, provide a valuable framework for understanding how religion and language intersected for Anne and Fitri. Both women had a strong desire to acquire English, flowing from powerful linguistic ideologies that position it as a global or world language (Duchêne & Heller, 2012; Heller, 2003, 2010; Park & Wee, 2012; Prendergast, 2008) and therefore a very valuable form of capital. At the same time, religious ideologies shaped the way they interacted socially, and the identity positions they negotiated during their sojourns. For Fitri, maintaining her strong Muslim identity in Australia was a frequent source of challenge, whereas Anne’s deep desire for connection and an imagined future as part of a vibrant social circle (Kanno & Norton, 2003; Motha & Lin, 2014) were the catalyst for ideological and identity transformation through her embracing of the Catholic faith. The different ways their religious identities intersected with their language learning highlight the complex and sometimes uneven relationship between capital, identity and ideology as they impact on investing in learning and using language. Whereas Anne acknowledged that English was useful, it was the transformation of her religious identity that had the greatest impact on her investment in English, with her language development occurring naturally as a result of her immersion in an English-­ speaking church community. In contrast, Fitri attached an extremely high value to English as a form of capital, openly admitting that her children’s language learning was the main reason she came to Australia. This reflects a well-established trend for families from South East Asian countries migrating to English-speaking countries for their children to be educated in English (Bae, 2013; Song, 2010; Waters, 2002). Interestingly, however, learning English had little impact on her religious identity, suggesting that learning the language of the host country is not necessarily a step towards acculturation (Schumann, 1986b). In fact, she was able to reconcile the ideological differences between Islam and what she perceived to be mainstream Australian values by clearly separating the learning and use of English from her Muslim identity. From her perspective,

276 

L. Gilanyi

English was nothing more than a tool or commodity that could be used to improve her, and her children’s, position in the world. It is also important to consider the impact of temporariness for Anne and Fitri. Despite knowing that they would return to their home countries, neither Anne nor Fitri were particularly concerned about possible language shift during their time in Australia. In fact, the opposite was true. In the knowledge that their time in Australia was limited, both women took every opportunity to improve their English, and in Fitri’s case, also her children’s English. Although Anne continued to use Spanish with her husband and when interacting with family in Costa Rica, she spoke almost exclusively English in all other areas of her life. Even when given the option of attending a Spanish-speaking church, she opted for an English one, with the express intention of improving her English. Fitri was even more single-minded in pursuing every opportunity to speak English and encouraged her children to use English in the home, despite knowing that they would be completing their education in Indonesia. The need for them to maintain the Indonesian language seemed to be an issue she was deferring for later in their sojourn, perhaps on the assumption that hearing their parents speak it would be sufficient for the children to maintain adequate proficiency. Her desire for her children to learn English seemed to override any concern she had about them losing their proficiency in Indonesian. To some extent, Anne’ and Fitri’s experiences with language were also impacted by their particular religious affiliations. Anne’s Catholic faith paved the way for her immersion into a local English-speaking church community that provided opportunities for her to develop her English. She initially saw the church as a way to deal with loneliness and improve her English but ended up developing a deep faith that sustained her through very difficult circumstances. Fitri, however, felt that her Muslim faith marked her as an outsider and was not comfortable with some elements of life in Australia that she felt were counter to her religious views. She also experienced challenges to her faith system as she negotiated the transmission of Muslim values and customs to her adolescent daughter. As a result, she took refuge in a tight-knit Indonesian Muslim community and had relatively little social contact with the English-speaking Australian community, despite her strong desire to learn English.

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

277

The role that the English language played in each woman’s religious practice and identity also impacted to some extent on their investment in learning English. For Anne, English was inextricably linked to her religious transformation and immersion in an English-speaking church, with her faith developing through English. This was evident in the way she described how re-learning familiar prayers in English facilitated a deeper understanding of them. Her religious identity was constructed in and expressed through English, and the Spanish language played almost no role. In part, her investment in learning and using English flowed out of her embrace of Catholic ideology, the development of her identity as a Catholic, and her delight in being accepted into membership of an English-speaking Catholic community that provided her with spiritual support and friendship. It is important to remember, however, that Anne’s involvement in an English-speaking church was a deliberate choice; her religious development could have also taken place within a Spanish-­ speaking church but she rejected this option. Whilst her English language development was certainly supported by her membership of an English-speaking church community, her desire to improve her English because of its value as resource was also clearly an important factor shaping her investment. The relationship between language and Fitri’s religious identity was rather complicated, meaning that the role of language in her religious practice sometimes seemed contradictory. She spoke often about the ideological challenges she faced living in an environment that she perceived to be at odds with her Muslim identity and was deeply concerned about ensuring her children not only understood but embraced their religious heritage. However, as with Anne, there was a very clear functional separation between language and religion. This was seen most clearly in her delight that her children could learn about the Koran in English. Although she was deeply committed to maintaining her religion and transmitting it to her children, it did not seem to be necessary to do this using the Indonesian language, reflecting the flexible relationship between language and religious practice found by other researchers (Chew, 2014b; Kouega, 2008; Woods, 2004b). Fitri was able to reconcile the apparent incompatibilities between the cultural and ideological norms she attached to English, and the Muslim religion, by rejecting English as a part of her

278 

L. Gilanyi

identity, framing it as white and Western and “just something we use”. Instead, her investment in learning English  – both for herself and her children – focussed on the benefits it could bring as a valuable form of capital. Whereas for Anne, investment in learning and using English was closely linked to, and supported by, her choice to express her religious identity in English, this was clearly not the case for Fitri. Although her religious community had created opportunities for English to be used, the primary language for religious practice and socialisation was Indonesian. However, both women’s investment in learning and using English was strongly impacted by its value as a form of capital, particularly in light of restricted time frame for acquiring it during their sojourns, and this had little to do with their religious practices or identities.

Conclusion In this chapter, I explored the relationship between language and religion in the context of temporary migration, through two contrasting narrative case studies: Anne and Fitri. Their cases reflect the complex, unpredictable and deeply individual nature of this relationship, but also the significance of the language of the temporary host community. The influence of the undeniable push to acquire English, a language that is widely viewed as the key to accessing global opportunities, cannot be ignored in these cases. Indeed, both Anne and Fitri acknowledged an instrumental desire to learn English, for the opportunities it would afford them in their home countries. One key difference that emerged from the findings is the impact of an individual’s religious affiliation. Whereas Anne’s religious identity was aligned with one of Australia’s largest religious groups, Fitri’s religious affiliation was with a much smaller group. According to the 2016 Census, 22.6% of the Australia population identified as Catholic, compared to 2.6% identifying as Muslim. (Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2017) For Anne, her desire to learn English was supported by her immersion into an English-speaking Catholic community in Australia and there was a natural synergy between her developing religious identity and her

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

279

investment in learning and using English. Faith and language were deeply intertwined. The situation was quite different for Fitri, not only in terms of the size of her religious group but also the difficulties she encountered in practicing and maintaining her religion in a society that she felt did not understand nor support it. As a result, most of her socialisation in Australia occurred within the Indonesian Muslim community. The fact that both women made choices to practice their religion (even if only partially in Fitri’s case, via her children’s religious instruction) in English lends support to Woods’ (2004c) contention that religion and language can function as separate entities, and therefore the expression of a religious identity or the maintenance of religious practices need not be tied to a particular language. However, the ready availability of an English-speaking church community meant that Anne had far greater opportunities than Fitri to develop her English through her religious practice. The temporary nature of their stays in Australia was also an important factor shaping both women’s investment in learning and using English. In particular, the limited time frame they had to acquire English meant that they gave they appeared to have little concern about maintaining the language of their home country; instead focussing on taking every opportunity to learn and use English. Although, as noted earlier, Fitri’s commitment to maintaining a religious identity that she perceived to be incompatible with mainstream Australia society meant her opportunities for socialising in English were more limited than Anne’s. Had she been a permanent migrant to Australia, Fitri may have had greater opportunities for using English, although this is not a question that can be answered by the current study. More research is needed that further probes the relationship between temporariness, perceived religious difference and transnational sojourners’ language learning and use. The unique experiences of each of these women provide partial, local and historical knowledge (Richardson & St. Pierre, 2005) that contributes to a deeper understanding of the complex interaction between language and religious identity. Although the original study did not focus solely on religion, the narrative inquiry research design meant that the research participants were free to tell stories that were meaningful to them and for Fitri and Anne, religion emerged as a key factor shaping

280 

L. Gilanyi

their investment in learning and using English. Furthermore, the longitudinal approach allowed me to capture the participants’ experiences over time, which was particularly helpful for exploring the impact of Anne’s developing religious identity. However, I acknowledge the limitations inherent in the findings of this research, which is based on two case studies, and is embedded within a larger study that examined investment of transnational sojourners more broadly. In order to better understand the relationship between language and religion in temporary migration contexts, there is a need for further studies that take an in-depth approach to investigating these issues specifically, in the lives of transnational sojourners belonging a wider range of religious and language communities. A longitudinal, narrative, case study approach would be well-suited to the exploratory nature of such research.

References Australian Bureau of Statistics. (2017). Religion in Australia. Retrieved from h t t p s : / / w w w. a b s . g o v. a u / a u s s t a t s / a b s @ . n s f / L o o k u p / b y % 2 0 Subject/2071.0~2016~Main%20Features~Religion%20Data%20 Summary~70 Bae, S. H. (2013). The Pursuit of Multilingualism in Transnational Migration: Strategies of Linguistic Investment Among Korean Jogi Yuhak Families in Singapore. Language and Education, 27(5), 415–431. https://doi.org/10.108 0/09500782.2012.709863 Barkhuizen, G., Benson, P., & Chik, A. (2014). Narrative Inquiry in Language Teaching and Learning Research. Routledge. Berry, J. W., & Sam, D. L. (2016). Theoretical Perspectives. In D. L. Sam & J. W. Berry (Eds.), The Cambridge Handbook of Acculturation Psychology (2nd ed., pp. 11–29). Cambridge University Press. Blackledge, A., & Creese, A. (2012). Pride, Profit and Distinction: Negotiations Across Time and Space in Community Language Education. In A. Duchêne & M.  Heller (Eds.), Language in Late Capitalism: Pride and Profit (pp. 116–141). https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203155868 Blackledge, A., & Pavlenko, A. (2001). Negotiation of Identities in Multilingual Contexts. The International Journal of Bilingualism, 5(3), 243–257. https:// doi.org/10.1177/13670069010050030101

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

281

Block, D. (2003). The Social Turn in Second Language Acquisition. Edinburgh University Press. Block, D. (2007). The Rise of Identity in SLA Research, Post Firth and Wagner (1997). The Modern Language Journal, 91(Focus Issue), 863–876. https:// doi.org/10.1111/j.1540-­4781.2007.00674.x Bochner, S. (2006a). Sojourners. In D. Sam, L. Berry, & W. John (Eds.), The Cambridge Handbook of Acculturation Psychology (pp. 181–197). Cambridge University press. Bochner, S. (2006b). Sojourners. In D. Sam, L. Berry, & W. John (Eds.), The Cambridge Handbook of Acculturation Psychology (pp. 181–197). Cambridge University press. Bourdieu, P. (1977). The Economics of Linguistic Exchanges. Social Science Information, 16(6), 645–668. https://doi. org/10.1177/053901847701600601 Bourdieu, P. (1986). The Forms of Capital. In J. G. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of Theory and Research for the Sociology of Education (pp.  241–258). Greenwood Press. Bourdieu, P. (1991). Language and Symbolic Power. Polity Press. Caine, V., Estefan, A., & Clandinin, D. J. (2013). A Return to Methodological Commitment; Reflections on Narrative Inquiry. Scandinavian Journal of Educational Research, 57(6), 574–586. https://doi.org/10.1080/0031383 1.2013.798833 Chew, P. (2014a). Language Choice and Religious Identities in Three Singaporean Madrasahs. International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 229, 49–65. https://doi.org/10.1515/ijsl-­2014-­0017 Chew, P. (2014b). Language Choice and Religious Identities in Three Singaporean Madrasahs. International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 229, 49–65. https://doi.org/10.1515/ijsl-­2014-­0017 Coulter, C.  A., & Smith, M.  L. (2009). The Construction Zone: Literary Elements in Narrative Research. Educational Researcher, 38(8), 577–590. https://doi.org/10.3102/0013189X09353787 Darvin, R., & Norton, B. (2015a). Identity and a Model of Investment in Applied Linguistics. Annual Review of Applied Linguistics, 35, 36–56. https:// doi.org/10.1017/S0267190514000191 Darvin, R., & Norton, B. (2015b). Identity and a Model of Investment in Applied Linguistics. Annual Review of Applied Linguistics, 35, 36–56. https:// doi.org/10.1017/S0267190514000191

282 

L. Gilanyi

De Fina, A. (2016). Linguistic Practices and Transnational Identities. In S. Preece (Ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Language and Identity (pp.  163–178). https://doi.org/10.4324/9781315669816 De Fina, A., & Perrino, S. (2013). Transnational Identities. Applied Linguistics, 34(5), 509–515. https://doi.org/10.1093/applin/amt024 Duchêne, A., & Heller, M. (2012). Language in Late Capitalism: Pride and Profit. Routledge. Duff, P. A. (2012). Second Language Socialization. In A. Duranti, E. Ochs, & B. Schiefflin (Eds.), The Handbook of Language Socialization (pp. 564–586). Wiley-Blackwell. Duff, P.  A. (2015). Transnationalism, Multilingualism, and Identity. Annual Review of Applied Linguistics, 35, 57–80. https://doi.org/10.1017/ S026719051400018X Dzialtuvaite, J. (2006). The Role of Religion in Language Choice and Identity Among Lithuanian Immigrants in Scotland. In T. Omoniyi & J. Fishman (Eds.), Explorations in the Sociology of Language and Religion (pp. 79–85). The Netherlands John Benjamins Publishing. Faist, T., Fauser, M., & Reisenauer, E. (2013). Transnational Migration. Polity Press. Fernandez, S., & Clyne, M. (2007). Tamil in Melbourne. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, 28(3), 169–187. https://doi. org/10.2167/jmmd488.0 Freeman, M. (2016). Modes of Thinking for Qualitative Data Analysis. Routledge. Garz, D., Jung, S.  Y., & Lee, H.  S. (2014). Religion and Transnationalism: Biographies of South Korean Migrants  – An Empirical Perspective. Transnational Social Review, 4(1), 45–57. https://doi.org/10.1080/2193167 4.2014.910357 Gearing, N., & Roger, P. (2018). ‘I’m Never Going to be Part of it’: Identity, Investment and Learning Korean. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, 39(2), 155–168. https://doi.org/10.1080/0143463 2.2017.1323909 Gregory, E., Choudhury, H., Ilankuberan, A., Kwapong, A., & Woodham, M. (2013). Practice, Performance and Perfection: Learning Sacred Texts in Four Faith Communities in London. International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 220, 27–48. https://doi.org/10.1515/ijsl-­2013-­0012 Heller, M. (2003). Globalization, the New Economy, and the Commodification of Language and Identity. Journal of SocioLinguistics, 7(4), 473–492. https:// doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-­9841.2003.00238.x

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

283

Heller, M. (2010). Language as Resource in the Globalized New Economy. In N.  Coupland (Ed.), The Handbook of Language and Globalization (pp. 347–365). https://doi.org/10.1002/9781444324068 Kanno, Y., & Norton, B. (2003). Imagined Communities and Educational Possibilities: Introduction. Journal of Language, Identity and Education, 2(4), 241–249. https://doi.org/10.1207/S15327701JLIE0204_1 Kim, J. H. (2016a). Understanding Narrative Inquiry: The Crafting and Analysis of Stories as Research. Sage. Kim, J. H. (2016b). Understanding Narrative Inquiry: The Crafting and Analysis of Stories as Research. Sage. Kouega, J.  P. (2008). Language, Religion and Cosmopolitanism: Language Use in the Catholic Church in Yaounde, Cameroon. International Journal of Multilingualism, 5(2), 140–153. https://doi. org/10.1080/14790710802152347 Levitt, P. (2003). “You Know, Abraham was Really the First Immigrant”: Religion and Transnational Migration. International Migration Review, 37(3), 847–873. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1747-­7379.2003.tb00160.x Levitt, P. (2004). Redefining the Boundaries of Belonging: The Institutional Character of Transnational Religious Life. Sociology of Religion, 65(1), 1–18. https://doi.org/10.2307/3712504 Merleau-Ponty, M. (1973). The Prose of the World. Northwestern University Press. Mills, J. (2004). Mothers and Mother Tongue: Perspectives of Self-Construction by Mothers of Pakistani Heritage. In A. Pavlenko & A. Blackledge (Eds.), Negotiation of Identities in Multilingual Contexts (pp.  161–191). Multilingual Matters. Motha, S., & Lin, A. (2014). “Non-coercive Rearrangements”: Theorizing Desire in TESOL. TESOL Quarterly, 48(2), 331–359. https://doi. org/10.1002/tesq.126 Norton Peirce, B. (1995). Social Identity, Investment and Language Learning. TESOL Quarterly, 29(1), 9–31. https://doi.org/10.2307/3587803 Ollerenshaw, J. A., & Creswell, J. W. (2002). Narrative Research: A Comparison of Two Restorying Data Analysis Approaches. Qualitative Inquiry, 8(3), 329–347. https://doi.org/10.1177/10778004008003008 Park, J.  S.-Y., & Wee, L. (2012). Markets of English: Linguistic Capital and Language Policy in a Globalizing World. Routledge. Pavlenko, A. (2002). Poststructuralist Approaches to the Study of Social Factors in Second Language Learning and Use. In V. Cook (Ed.), Portraits of the L2 User (pp. 275–302). Multilingual Matters.

284 

L. Gilanyi

Pavlenko, A. (2004). ‘The Making of an American’: Negotiation of Identities at the Turn of the Twentieth Century. In A. Pavlenko & A. Blackledge (Eds.), Negotiation of Identities in Multilingual Contexts (pp.  34–67). Multilingual Matters. Polkinghorne, D. E. (1988a). Narrative Knowing and the Human Sciences. State University of New York Press. Polkinghorne, D. E. (1988b). Narrative Knowing and the Human Sciences. State University of New York Press. Polkinghorne, D. E. (1995). Narrative Configuration in Qualitative Analysis. International Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education, 8(1), 5–23. https:// doi.org/10.1080/0951839950080103 Ponterotto, J.  G. (2005). Qualitative Research in Counseling Psychology: A Primer on Research Paradigms and Philosophy of Science. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 52(2), 126–136. https://doi. org/10.1037/0022-­0167.52.2.126 Poot, J., Waldorf, B., & van Wissen, L. (2008). Migration in a Globalised World: A New Paradigm. In J. Poot, B. Waldorf, & L. van Wissen (Eds.), Migration and Human Capital (pp. 3–26). Edward Elgar Publishing Ltd. Prendergast, C. (2008). Buying into English. University of Pittsburgh Press. Richardson, L., & St. Pierre, E. (2005). Writing: A Method of Inquiry. In N. Denzin & Y. Lincoln (Eds.), The Sage Handbook of Qualitative Research (3rd ed.). Sage. Safran, W. (2008). Language, Ethnicity and Religion: A Complex and Persistent Linkage. Nations and Nationalism, 14(1), 171–190. https://doi. org/10.1111/j.1469-­8129.2008.00323.x Saldaña, J. (2003). Longitudinal Qualitative Research: Analyzing Change Through Time. Rowman Altamira. Schumann, J.  H. (1986a). Research on the Acculturation Model for Second Language Acquisition. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, 7(5), 379–392. https://doi.org/10.1080/01434632.1986.9994254 Schumann, J.  H. (1986b). Research on the Acculturation Model for Second Language Acquisition. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development, 7(5), 379–392. https://doi.org/10.1080/01434632.1986.9994254 Silverman, D. (2013). Doing Qualitative Research (4th ed.). Sage. Sinclair Bell, J. (2011). Reporting and Publishing Narrative Inquiry in TESOL: Challenges and Rewards. TESOL Quarterly, 45(3), 575–584. https://doi. org/10.5054/tq.2011.256792

11  Language and Religion in the Lives of Two Transnational… 

285

Song, J. (2010). Language Ideology and Identity in Transnational Space: Globalization, Migration, and Bilingualism Among Korean Families in the USA. International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism, 13(1), 23–32. https://doi.org/10.1080/13670050902748778 Souza, A. (2016). Language and Religious Identities. In S.  Preece (Ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Language and Identity (pp.  221–235). https://doi. org/10.4324/9781315669816-­23 Spence, D. P. (1986). Narrative Smoothing and Clinical Wisdom. In T. R. Sarbin (Ed.), Narrative Psychology: The Storied Nature of Human Conduct (pp. 211–232). Praeger Publishers/Greenwood Publishing Group. Vygotsky, L. (2012). Thought and Language (A. Kozulin, Trans.). MIT Press. Waters, J.  L. (2002). Flexible Families? ‘Astronaut’ Households and the Experiences of Lone Mothers in Vancouver, British Columbia. Social and Cultural Geography, 3(2), 117–134. https://doi. org/10.1080/114649360220133907 Weedon, C. (1987). Feminist Practice and Poststructuralist Theory. Basil Blackwell. Woods, A. (2004a). Medium or Message? Language and Faith in Ethnic Churches. Multilingual Matters. Woods, A. (2004b). Medium or Message? Language and Faith in Ethnic Churches. Multilingual Matters. Woods, A. (2004c). Medium or Message? Language and Faith in Ethnic Churches. Multilingual Matters. Wuthnow, R., & Offutt, S. (2008). Transnational Religious Connections. Sociology of Religion, 69(2), 209–232. https://doi.org/10.1093/ socrel/69.2.209 Wycliffe Bible Translators. (2021). Our Impact. Retrieved from: https://www. wycliffe.org.uk/about/our-­impact/. Accessed on 26 Apr 2021.

12 Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural and Spiritual Identity Salai Biak Za Lian Ching, Alistair Welsh, and Ramon Lopez Castellano

Introduction As past and present events reflect, there has been ongoing political repression in Burma since independence in 1947, resulting in thousands of Chin people leaving for neighbouring countries, such as India and Malaysia, to apply for refugee status under the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) and seeking resettlement in a third country. Chin people are now scattered throughout Europe, the United States of America, Canada, New Zealand, and Australia. This massive geographical shift of the Chin population has had significant implications for language use in the larger global Chin community. The original homeland of the Hakha Chin people in Chin State, Burma (also known as Myanmar) was formerly referred to as Chinland during British colonisation. The British divided the Chin population across three key areas of the British Empire: The Chin Hills District (in

S. B. Z. Lian Ching • A. Welsh (*) • R. Lopez Castellano Deakin University, Melbourne, VIC, Australia e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_12

287

288 

S. B. Z. Lian Ching et al.

Burma), Lushai Hills District (in Mizoram State, India) and the Chittagong Hills of Bangladesh (Sakhong, 2003). As a result, Chin populations are now found in Burma, India and East Bangladesh. Because of this dispersal and long-term separation, different Chin communities have become somewhat culturally diverse (Zomi Theological College, 2007). Despite historically forced divisions and migration diasporas, a distinctive Chin identity remains, which is based on ethnic, cultural, religious and linguistic characteristics. While Chin peoples generally identify Burma as their homeland (Lwin, 2019) and share ethnic and cultural characteristics, religion, rather than territory, has become a primordial vehicle for identity. The adoption of Christianity has been regarded as a source of clan unity and cohesion, social progress and ethnic pride and identity, to the point that “Chin identity and Christianity have become interwoven” (Mang, 2018). In fact, the Christian missionary zeal for converting peoples globally had some, probably unintended, radical implications for many in terms of ethnic identity. In their efforts to spread their faith, missionaries had to learn and use the ethnic languages, and in so doing they contributed to the “creation” and standardization of such languages through religious translations, grammars, dictionaries and text books (Safran, 2008). The conversion into a universal religion expressed through a standardized language facilitated the conversion of diverse related clan and tribal identities into a common ethnicity. Once a common ethnicity is embraced, difference within the ethnic group is perceived as variation within a teleological sameness, instead of a divisive marker of clan identity. For the Chin people Christianity has had an outstanding role in creating and keeping identity in their diaspora, as it meant the “transformation of Chin society from clan and tribal groups to the religious community of the church with no boundaries” (Sakhong, 2003, p. 70). The Chin people, a particular ethnic group among others in Burma, have one language, but it consists of many dialects spoken by different tribes and clans. These are so distinctive that speakers of different dialects cannot always fully understand each other. Differences in dialects do not indicate dissimilarity in ethnicity but merely the result of deviation due to geographic, climatic and other circumstances (Zomi Theological College, 2007, p. 13). Hence, there is no such thing as a universal ‘Chin’ language. Instead, Chin people have a sense of connectedness through

12  Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural… 

289

one language while also having diverse sub-groups identifiable through many dialects. In the absence of an official Chin language, the Hakha dialect is used as a lingua franca in most areas in the Chin State as well as in the Chin diaspora around the world. Hakha is also the name of the capital city of the Chin State. Chin people from many different parts of the Chin State settle in or move to Hakha to work and study. Eventually, migrants, including their children, learn and speak Hakha. Nowadays, the Hakha dialect is used for communication across tribes and is said to be the most widely spoken and understood dialect (Vervest, 2014). For the Hakha Chin, the association between language and religion has a long history. It is well-known that missionaries, in their efforts to spread their faith to other peoples, had to use indigenous languages and, in doing so, contributed to the development and standardisation of those languages by adding vocabulary, writing dictionaries and grammars, and translating religious documents (Hastings, 1997). This language definition, together with religious conversion, helped transform group identities into more strongly defined ethnic identities (Ranger, 1999). American Baptist Missionaries were active in Chin state in Burma since 1899 and played a major role in the standardisation of Hakha Chin and its orthographical development (Bawi Hu, 2011). As discussed later in the chapter, this legacy is evident today with most of the globally available Hakha Chin literature being related to religion. It is interesting to consider that the British colonial context may have been conducive to the work of early missionaries, and that the presence of English language contributed to the current orthography of Hakha Chin. While considering the Chin population holistically, this study predominantly focuses on people originating from the Chin State in Burma who are speakers of the Hakha dialect, with a particular focus on their community in Melbourne, Australia. This particular Chin community displays an extraordinary nexus between language, religion, church, ethnic and individual identity. The Chin people in Australia began to arrive at the beginning of 2000. The majority came as refugees or on humanitarian visas from Malaysia or India. The number of Chin people who have resettled in Australia is unknown but it is estimated that the Chin community in Australia now numbers approximately 10,000–15,000, including those born in Australia. Chin people live across major cities of Australia, with most residing in Melbourne, Perth, Adelaide and Brisbane.

290 

S. B. Z. Lian Ching et al.

The Chin people in Australia are predominantly Christian (the Chin State is the only part of Burma where the majority of the population are Christian). Before the arrival of American Baptist Missionaries on March 15, 1899, the Chins were animists (Bawi Hu, 2011). Today, about 85.4% of the Chin population in Myanmar are Christian (Myanmar Census: Religion, 2016). Each individual or family belongs to a Chin church that uses a particular dialect or the same denomination as they did in their village prior to migrating to Australia. The majority of Chin people belong to Protestant denominations, especially Baptist. For many Chin people in Melbourne, attending worship services on Sunday (mostly) is regarded as an obligatory practice unless serious illness prevents it. The church is a place to worship and pray but also a place to meet and socialise with fellow Chin people. Recognising the background of the Hakha Chin people as briefly outlined in this introduction, this chapter explores the intimate and extraordinarily powerful relationship between Hakha language, Christianity and identity in the Melbourne Chin community, both in the present and in the foreseeable future.

 esearching Language Use in the Chin R Speech Community While primarily focusing on the Melbourne Chin diaspora, this study takes into account its global context, as a migrant community. The study draws on primary data sources from written questionnaires and in-depth interviews, as well as secondary sources written in Hakha Chin. The questionnaire included questions about participants’ demographics, their language use in everyday activities and a self-rating of language proficiency. It was also used to invite them to undertake an in-depth interview. In-depth interviews allowed research participants the opportunity to tell their own stories (thoughts, beliefs and opinions) and to give a voice to participants to present their experiences of language use and its religious implications and connections. Data for this study includes language use that encompasses both spoken and written language. A limited focus on spoken language in studies

12  Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural… 

291

of language use covers only part of contextual usage. Written language is an additional form of usage that both influences and is influenced by spoken language. Voices and views of ordinary people not only occur in speech but may also be preserved in writing, so that written documents are an important resource in capturing the heritage language of a speech community and associated socio-cultural dimensions. This study, therefore, goes beyond the questionnaire and interview process to include document analysis as a method to document the status and vitality of Hakha Chin written language. This is done by compiling a worldwide inventory of Hakha Chin language written resources. This ‘document analysis’ method of inquiry (Bowen, 2009) gathers “a type of data that has already been published in books, newspapers, magazines, journals, online portals etc” as secondary sources (Dudovskiy, 2021). Twenty-four participants were selected through convenience sampling from the Chin community members residing in the western suburbs of Melbourne. The following requirements for participants were applied: (1) over the age of 18; (2) varying levels of English competency (low, intermediate and advanced); (3) a range of educational levels; and (4) more than 5 years of residency in Australia. In addition, a gender balance and age range were sought to comprise the participant cohort. Participants were divided into three age groups of eight participants, each consisting of four females and four males. The age groups were older people (aged 55–70), middle-aged (30–54) and younger people (aged 18–29). These groupings are broadly representative of some key trends in participants’ language usage and proficiency.

Chin Identity: Sense of Community To examine Chin identity, we draw on the logic of constructivism as reflected in positioning theory by its key proponents Harré (2010) and Harré and Langenhove (1991). We apply an understanding of identity as a social construct where self-identification involves positioning one’s self in relation to others. This is reflected in the definition of identity as “a person’s place in relation to the other people, a person’s perspective on the rest of the world, a person’s understanding of his or her value to

292 

S. B. Z. Lian Ching et al.

others – all of these are integral to the individual’s experience of self, and are constructed in collaboration with others as those others engage in the same construction of themselves” (Ekherts, 2000 cited in Dagamseh, 2020). Key points of difference are the basis of identity formation and are used to conceptualise a uniqueness of self and/or others. Self-­identification is framed in relation to others and commonly draws on differences of race, religion, language, culture and customs (Vervest, 2014). It is useful to consider the Chin sense of being part of a global community, despite our particular focus on the Chin community in Melbourne. This notion of a global community echoes Anderson’s concept of an imagined community (Anderson, 1983), which although conceptualised in terms of the nation state, can similarly be applied to the concept of a Chin global community that traverses the boundaries of nation states. Participants in this study made explicit references to the Chin homeland in Burma and alluded to Chin communities across the globe. We will return to this issue later in the chapter when considering the vitality and future viability of the Chin language. However, the more immediate relevance to note here is for identity, which is complex, fluid and contains potential for multiple identity positions to be adopted by an individual. Within this, global and local identities represent a merely simplistic dichotomy, where each branch out into other potential dimensions of complexity. Chin languages and dialects reflect such complexity of identity positioning. Different ethnic or sub-tribal groups of Chin people express and identify themselves by the language they speak, and its cultural paraphernalia is shaped by its language. For Chin people, language and ethnic identity are inseparable. It is the language or dialect that acts as a symbol of the group’s uniqueness and group’s cultural heritage (Fishman, 1999). This means, Chin people who live in Melbourne, Australia typically associate with people who use the same Chin dialect. The use of certain different dialects of Chin can also create separateness, where it may be difficult to have a rich relationship with people who do not speak the same dialect of Chin. Because of these dialectal differences, there are many Chin churches in Melbourne, whose congregations can identify themselves by the dialect of Chin that they speak. For instance, Lautu

12  Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural… 

293

(Chin) people have their own church, so as the Falam, Mara, Zophei, Zotung and Matu. In this way, language variation can be a defining point of difference between Chin communities, represented by particular church congregations orientated around those different dialects. Yet in broader terms, religion provides a unifying point of identification across different Chin communities. Overlaying the use of different dialects, sharing the Hakha Chin language strengthens ties and enables strong relationships with families, friends and relatives in both local and global contexts. Linguistic competency in Hakha Chin helps Hakha Chin speakers in Melbourne to connect with their homeland and loved-ones overseas. Pangpar, an older-aged female participant, shared a story about a family trip to Burma in 2017, where her children were able to speak Hakha Chin and communicate with grandparents, friends and family members. She said that if the children were not able to speak Hakha Chin, important links to family members would be lost, affirming that Hakha Chin language unites “my family, brothers and sisters residing overseas”. Thus, Hakha Chin language carries various rich cultural values including historical memories that link with a homeland in Burma. Similarly referring to the homeland link, Senri, a middle-aged female participant reflected that “I may not be dwelling physically in our homeland, but my heart, my thoughts are endlessly living in my native land”. This reflects a symbolic emotional attachment to ancestral land as well as an indirect expression of affection to the Hakha Chin language, as a way to articulate what is in her “heart” and “thoughts”.

Language as a Marker of Hakha Chin Identity Together with religion and ethnicity, language has traditionally been regarded as nesting at the very core of individual and group identity. Participants in this study explicitly recognised language as a powerful part of their identity, where speaking the language was viewed as an embodied act of expressing one’s identity. Emphasising the power of Hakha Chin language as a marker of identity, Chokhlei said:

294 

S. B. Z. Lian Ching et al.

If I do not speak Hakha Chin, even I tell them that I am Chin, they will not believe me. If I speak Hakha Chin, I do not need to say who I am, it is defined already who I am. (Chokhlei, a middle-aged female participant)

This shows how Hakha Chin language can be linked to a sense of Chin identity. It highlights the importance of language as a marker of ethnic identity, and signifies that speaking the language is an embodied act for Chokhlei that clearly defines who she is in terms of cultural background. The affective dimensions of language were also evident, whereby participants told of emotional responses when hearing their language spoken. Lian reflected on these affective dimensions in the following way: When I hear someone speaking Hakha Chin, I develop a sense of emotional connection. I think, language acts as a bridge between me and the interculotors … a feeling of attachment grows, and I am not ashamed of my language. (Lian, a middle-aged male participant)

This suggests that Hakha Chin allows him to readily establish an emotional connection with interlocutors, using the metaphor of bridging a gap between people. Interestingly, his comments also reflect a defensive stance towards his language by saying “I am not ashamed of my language”. This reflects a sense of pride in Hakha Chin language, albeit indirectly. Yet this statement also suggests the likelihood that he perceives a threat to the identity position linked to his language, implying the existence of a sense of inferiority associated with the language. These connotations are not explicit from the data of this participant but may be linked to a sense of insecurity of linguistic and cultural positions. These insecurities can arise due to the assimilative demands of being a migrant in Australia, including exposure to assimilative linguistic forces exerted by English as the national language, as was evident elsewhere in this study’s data. This participant elaborated on the symbolic value of what language meant to him, linking language to an embodiment of self from his childhood experiences. He explained that Hakha Chin was a language that: “I grew up to speak, think, dream, fantasise, feel emotions (inner voice) in my language”. This reflects the linguistic power of his first language and

12  Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural… 

295

the affective dimensions associated in what may seem to be fundamental human acts. Yet among these are deeply abstract acts of thinking, dreaming, fantasising as well as the reference to his inner voice. All of these abstract acts are highly individualised and cognitive acts experienced uniquely by the individual self within the ‘silence’ of one’s own mind. In recognising that all of these uniquely experienced things involve language, is a reflection of language as an embodiment of identity. The highly individualised and affective dimensions of Hakha Chin was reflected by participants who considered it as a beautiful language. Cung and Thang (two older-aged participants) mentioned emotional aspects; while Dingdi said, “when I hear someone speaking Hakha Chin, I realise what a beautiful language it is…so sweet to my ears, and it gives me a complete inner satisfaction”. (Dingdi, an older female participant) The affective dimensions of Hakha Chin was also evident among some younger participants. Thawng, a young male, regarded Hakha Chin as a rich language that has unique idioms, proverbs and slang. He reflected very positively on the ability to speak Hakha Chin, saying: “I am very satisfied and grateful that I speak Hakha language. It is a privilege for me to speak a language that is not well-known nor spoken by many people in the world, what a glory!” Thawng’s attitude towards Hakha Chin language reflects a deep pride in the language, valuing its distinctiveness and uniqueness. Although most of the middle-aged and older-aged participants had been living in Australia for several years, English still felt foreign for them. Their collective experience shows that they think mostly in Hakha Chin, express ideas more effectively and confidently in the language and that their memories had been constructed with Hakha Chin words as the building blocks. The ability to speak Hakha Chin was particularly significant for older Chin people who did not have strong English. With limited English, Hakha Chin was even more important for meeting more of their communicative needs. Language alone, however, may not be sufficient to guarantee a cohesive sense of group identity in diasporic communities. As Safran points out, “language as a functional medium alone does not suffice, for it cannot hold out for ever against the institutional superiority of the dominant language of the host country” (Safran, 2008, p. 186). A common

296 

S. B. Z. Lian Ching et al.

language and religion, however, coupled with ethnicity, can offer a much stronger and deeper sense of group connectedness (Safran, 2008, p. 184). In the Hakha Chin community, identity, language and religion are indissolubly entwined.

L anguage and Religion: Inseparable Elements of Chin Identity Though not coextensive with ethnonation per se, language and religion are deeply connected and central to identity. Both language and religion are deep, primordial structures that individuals are born into (thus taken for granted); both are forms of identification and categorical distinctions (that unite and differentiate); both share narratives and “narrate” each other; and both are transmitted socially yet in turn help structure cohesion and ethnic identity (Safran, 2008, pp. 171–172). When it comes to the language/religion/identity triad and specifically in Melbourne, Woods notes the close association of ethnic churches with a particular community language and how their members most often “not only possess cultural and language community membership, but membership of a denomination, and a religion at local, national and international levels; they have overlapping ethnic and religious identities” (Woods, 2006). As a strong marker of identity, the data of this study shows Hakha Chin to be deeply associated with religion, faith and spiritual development. Participants also discussed how the Chin people are deeply religious and talked about the importance of church and faith in their own lives. For the Hakha Chin diaspora community in Melbourne, religion and church is a place where Chin diaspora find a true sense of belonging, value and shelter as it provides a fundamental way of ‘adjusting’ and ‘belonging’ (De Leersnyder et al., 2011). There is a strong sense of Hakha Chin community in Melbourne – as a speech community linked to cultural identity. For many participants, the church represents the centre of this community as a cultural hub. Its congregation is recognised as a distinctive community, inseparable from Hakha Chin language and culture. Church related activities were noted as occurring in various physical

12  Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural… 

297

spaces – not only the church location itself but also in public parks and people’s homes. This reflects that the community’s social space of cultural identification transcends boundaries of physical space and profoundly involves abstract dimensions of identification – particularly social connectedness with others through a shared language, cultural and spiritual orientation. Participants also explained that religious texts such as the Bible and Hymnals (translated in Hakha Chin) are important resources for spiritual development. These sacred texts instruct or give spiritual truth and establish a connection with faith in a practical way. Through reading and studying the sacred texts or listening to sermons, participants noted that they developed a greater understanding of their religion and faith. This demonstrates the significance of literacy skills and written resources in Hakha Chin language that participants use in religious practices. They expressed strong views on the role of Hakha Chin, and how it plays such an important role in their relationship with God. Collectively, all participants expressed strong beliefs in the power of faith (religion) and that Hakha Chin is more useful for them than English. Hakha Chin is the living language of prayer, thanksgiving, praise and worship to God. During church services, proficiency in Hakha Chin is important in order to feel included and connected. Hakha Chin language allows participants to draw closer to God and strengthen their spiritual well-being. For many Chin people, religion and ethnicity are inseparable. Chin culture is largely influenced by Christianity. Chin social and cultural values, and morals in life are mostly based on the Bible. So, it is almost impossible to entirely separate the ‘religion’ and ‘language’ as the language both shapes and reflects religious practice. Religion, language and ethnicity are deeply connected, and rebuilding congregations and churches help the Chin diaspora in Melbourne to establish their ethnic identity and community as they settle in a new land (Leersnyder et al., 2011). In a discussion exploring the usefulness (functions) of Hakha Chin in Melbourne, Phaizawng shared a personal experience when she first arrived in Australia of attending an English language Baptist Church service: When I first arrived in Australia, I attended the English church service. From the beginning to the end of worship service, …. I did not understand

298 

S. B. Z. Lian Ching et al.

what the preacher was preaching…I felt like I was watching a foreign movie without subtitles…. Although, my friend interpreted for me … we were afraid that we would be a nuisance to others, so she stopped…It didn’t feel like a church service at all. (Phaizawng, a middle-aged female participant)

While this participant had attended a Sunday worship service to enhance her spiritual health and well-being, she felt that the church service conducted in English was like “watching a foreign movie without subtitles”. Clearly, in this case language proficiency (comprehension) was a major factor for having a meaningful experience. The practical aspects and significance of language comprehension were noted by Sui, an older female participant who noted “jokes are funnier, songs and lyrics become more meaningful, stories and tales are more engaging when it is preached in my mother-language”. Findings discussed so far are consistent with previous research that notes religious organisations as key places where linguistic and ethnic identities can be maintained (Dagamseh, 2020; Spolsky, 2009). Yet, in increasingly secular societies like Australia, questions arise about the future viability of Hakha Chin.

 ill Hakha Chin Endure? Language Vitality W and Language Maintenance Based on UNESCO’s language vitality assessment of community members’ attitudes to language, Hakha Chin can be characterised as Grade 4, on a scale of 0–5 where Grade 5 represents the language is valued by all members of the speech community and zero represents no interest in language maintenance. Grade 4 is defined as “most members support language maintenance” (Brenzinger et al., 2003). This ranking reflects participants’ views of their language as a cultural core value, vital to their community and ethnic identity, associated with economic prosperity and a belief in its long-term viability. Some key elements of Hakha Chin language use in Melbourne suggesting linguistic vitality include recognition of its relevance to job opportunities, government-funded public interpreting services, SBS

12  Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural… 

299

foreign language radio programs and Hakha Chin being offered as a language of high school study through the Victorian School of Languages (VSL). These are additional indicators of language vitality, complementing how the language is used by the Hakha Chin community. In fact, vitality of the Hakha Chin language is perhaps most apparent through its use in religious contexts and its deep connections with spirituality. In the Australian context, Woods notes the importance of ethnic churches for language maintenance, but that their success is mixed with younger generations (Woods, 2006). She suggests success is more likely where church links extend to other activities, such as Saturday language schools. The Hakha Chin speech community in Melbourne overwhelmingly believes that Chin language maintenance is important so that younger members of the community maintain their heritage language, their cultural heritage, their ethnic identity and family ties in Burma. Data shows participants’ sense of obligation to preserve the language for future generations, reflecting an understanding of language as the “carrier of history, traditions, customs and folklore from one generation to another” (Zalmay, 2017). Hakha Chin language was recognised by participants not only to affirm their Chin identity, but important for participating in Christian rituals and to connect with God and religious values (Haeri, 2003). For Chin people, religion and church are equally important parts of language maintenance. Similarly, this phenomenon has been noted for other migrant communities for which church represents a key domain for preserving heritage language (Spolsky, 2009). It was the Melbourne Chin Church that first introduced a Hakha Chin language school program. It started in 2007 and ran four-hour classes every Saturday until the Victorian School of Languages (VSL) formally offered Hakha Chin as a language of study in 2009. This study finds that proficiency in Hakha Chin creates job opportunities for bilingual and multilingual members of the speech community in Melbourne. Almost half of the participants used their language skills to make income and acknowledged that proficiency in Hakha Chin is a valuable asset for employment opportunities. Consequently, they showed positive attitudes towards Hakha Chin using the language across both personal and professional domains. One participant noted in Melbourne there are Hakha Chin-English interpreters, translators, language teachers and teacher

300 

S. B. Z. Lian Ching et al.

aids. Participants also noted globally-connected employment where Hakha Chin literates and scholars work as online-based news writers/reporters/ producers, freelance translators, makers of videos for YouTube or other platforms, and developers of apps and games (language resources). This shows that language proficiency is a valuable attribute that Hakha Chin people can convert into ‘financial gain’ with opportunities including online tutoring, social media, website, blogging and YouTube (Dhawan, 2020). Yet, it is most likely social or personal factors operating collectively that will determine the future viability of the Hakha Chin language. The Hakha Chin speech community in Melbourne use their mother tongue extensively at social events, church services, and in the home. Within the speech community, there is strong awareness of the significance of the language, and an optimistic view of its future viability, as evident in Dawt’s prediction: Our language will not die, the church is strongly supporting the language maintenance, the government (referring to the VSL) offers Hakha Chin language class…we use the language at home and with family and friends, and in social media…now that we are in Australia, our young people have a better understanding of how important it is to maintain their mothertongue…I truly believe that Hakha Chin language will get higher status in the future. (Dawt, a middle-aged, female participant)

An important aspect of status of Hakha Chin is as a liturgical language that is cultivated and used in religious services. In Melbourne alone, there may be as many as 20 Chin churches that run church services in Hakha Chin language. While the Hakha Chin speech community in Melbourne may be relatively small, many Hakha Chin speech communities exist across the globe. Participants believed that global connectedness is important for the ongoing vitality of Hakha Chin language – particularly connections with the homeland (Chin State, Burma). A key part of this involves visiting family in Burma. Education and literacy were also recognised as important for language maintenance. Using the same written script as English was seen as a strength of Hakha Chin. Some participants suggested that being well educated will enable Hakha Chin speakers to better understand the

12  Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural… 

301

importance of maintaining their mother language. The availability of literary works in Hakha Chin further enhances its status and is a matter we expand on below. The benefits of language maintenance are numerous. Data of this study reflects the phenomenon noted by Bourdieu, cited in Smits and Gündüz-Hoşgör (2003), where linguistic capital (language proficiency) can be “transferred into other forms of capital like economic or social capital”. Findings of this research suggest the Hakha Chin Melbourne speech community’s desire to maintain their mother tongue is predominantly as a form of social capital but that it is complemented by other outcomes related to economic capital. For its speech community in Melbourne, Hakha Chin language symbolises intensely personal dimensions. One of the most prominent points is religiosity as strong marker of identity – both of individual and community. These deeply personal dimensions of language use offer optimism for the future viability of Hakha Chin.

Chin Language Materials The potential for Hakha Chin language to remain viable in the Melbourne diaspora community into the future will be determined by the will of the speech community. This will be a challenge for the speech community in a socio-political environment where English as the national language exerts great assimilative pressures. A key factor for the ongoing viability of Hakha Chin in Melbourne will be the literacy skills of its speech community and its base of literature. As noted earlier, Hakha Chin orthography is based on English, so literacy skills in English have potential transferability into Hakha Chin. There is a growing body of literature in Hakha Chin that serves as an important living resource that continues to both shape and reflect the Hakha Chin language. In 1999, the Chin Association for Christian Communication (CACC) in Hakha, Chin State, Burma compiled a list of 503 publications in Hakha dialect (Stephen Ni Kio, 2007). This list shows that the most prolific category of publications are religious books (Biblically related). The second most prolific category is Magazines and Periodicals, followed by church teaching resources and music/song books.

302 

S. B. Z. Lian Ching et al.

Religion has been prominent in the historical development of Hakha Chin literacy and remains the case with a large proportion of contemporary literature linked to Christianity. Since 1999, more literary works in Hakha Chin language have been produced and diversified in genre. The lead author’s research in 2020 shows 932 publications in Hakha Chin. The largest category is religious-­ books. Magazines are the second-highest category, with Newspapers the third-highest category – including both print and online-based forms. The fourth largest category is language, linguistics and literature –including poetry, dictionaries, grammar resources, and teaching resources. There remain very few publications for many areas such as food and nutrition, science, sport, exercise, travel and the environment, although these kinds of topics appear in some magazines, journals and articles. There are also some literary works translated into Hakha Chin from foreign languages such as George Orwell’s Animal Farm and How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie. In sum, Hakha Chin has a reasonable literary base despite its orthography having been developed across a relatively short historical time frame. Its literature includes key resources for language maintenance with grammar descriptions, dictionaries, and various other forms of literature. Although there may seem to be a reasonable amount of literature in Hakha Chin, it is extremely limited in breadth and number if compared to that of a national language. Most publications are religious books, suggesting that the viability of Hakha Chin language – in its diaspora communities at least – are closely dependent on the community’s connections with religion. For Chin people, the written form of Hakha Chin is a source of pride as a tangible expression of identity. Christianity is central to the Hakha Chin’s collective and individual identity and is likely to play a central role in enabling the ongoing viability of the Chin language in its diaspora context in Melbourne. These forces of literacy and identity are intertwined with Hakha Chin literature reflecting and shaping the community. While still limited in scope, the growing body of literature in Hakha Chin is important for reinforcing the language’s perceived usefulness and status. Moreover, written materials and literacy skills are critical to support language maintenance for future Hakha Chin generations.

12  Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural… 

303

The current situation offers optimism for the future viability of Hakha Chin in the Melbourne diaspora community.

Conclusion Within the context of Australia’s multilingual landscape, the Hakha Chin speech community in Melbourne exhibits a strong sense of identity, within which Hakha Chin language retains its potency. One of the most significant dimensions of language is that it contains and reflects its speakers’ culture, including moral and ethical values (Ginting, 2018). Indeed, Hakha Chin language is a symbol of its speech community’s personal and ethnic identity. Central to the Hakha Chin identity is Christianity, which for many members of the community is inseparable from the language. For the Hakha Chin community in Melbourne, there is an inherent and so far, inseparable connection between language, identity and religion. These three dimensions are evident in both physical and social spaces. In physical spaces, the domains of churches, shops and homes are where the language flourish. These physical spaces reflect deeper abstract spaces where identity positions are displayed, through the Hakha Chin language. Religiosity is central to the Hakha Chin community and indeed to the future viability of the Haka Chin language in Melbourne’s diaspora community. While the desire of this speech community will ultimately be the critical factor in determining the future vitality of its language – there is no doubt that its linguistic dynamics will be affected by physical spaces and its literary resources, the latter which we regard as ‘linguistic artefacts’. Important physical spaces as domains of language use are churches, shops, homes and public spaces that host cultural events. Similarly, important, linguistic artefacts not only serve as resources that enable the sustained use of the language but are also tangible reminders that reinforce its perceived usefulness and status. One of main reasons why Hakha Chin remains linguistically viable lies in its semiotic power linked to religion. For many in Melbourne’s Hakha Chin community, Hakha Chin is regarded as a language given by God to Chin people, and therefore retains its status and abstract power. Regardless

304 

S. B. Z. Lian Ching et al.

of the more secular experience of Australian-born younger Chin generations growing up in Melbourne, for the foreseeable future, religiosity is most likely to remain as a key factor in the future viability of the language of its diaspora community. A useful line of enquiry for future research will be to explore how younger generations negotiate religion and language as they engage in a more secular social environment in Australia. For now, Christianity, as articulated in Hakha Chin language is at the very heart of the Chin community’s identity – accompanied by a belief that it is important to honour their native language and culture.

References Anderson, B. (1983). Imagined Communities. Verso. Bawi, H. (2011). Literacy and Language Maintenance in Chin State, Myanmar. Chin Association for Christian Communication, 1(1), 1–13. Bowen, G. A. (2009). Document Analysis as a Qualitative Research Method. Qualitative Research Journal, 9(2), 27–40. Brenzinger, M., Dwyer, A. M., de Graaf, T., Grinevald, C., Kraussq, M., Miyaoka, O., Ostler, N., et al. (2003). Language Vitality and Endangerment. In International Expert Meeting on UNESCO Programme Safeguarding of Endangered Languages (p. 15). UNESCO Ad Hoc Expert Group. Dagamseh, M. (2020). Language Maintenance, Shift and Variation: Evidence from Jordanian and Palestinian Immigrants in Christchurch New Zealand. Unpublished PhD Thesis, University of Canterbury. De Leersnyder, J., Mesquita, B., & Kim, H. S. (2011). Where Do My Emotions Belong? A Study of Immigrants’ Emotional Acculturation. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 37(4), 451–463. Dhawan, S. (2020). Online Learning: A Panacea in the Time of COVID-19 Crisis. Journal of Educational Technology Systems, 49(1), 5–22. Dudovskiy, J. (2021). Exploratory Research. Business Research Methodology (p. 1). https://research-methodology.net/research-methodology/researchdesign/exploratory-research/ Fishman, J. A. (1999). Handbook of Language and Ethnic Identity. Oxford University Press. Ginting, S. A. (2018). Language Attitude of Sellers in Traditional Market Toward Karonese Language. English Language Teaching, 11(7), 125.

12  Hakha Chin Language in Melbourne: A Marker of Cultural… 

305

Haeri, N. (2003). Sacred Language, Ordinary People. Palgrave Macmillan. Harré, R. (2010). Social Sources of Mental Content and Order. In L. Van Langenhove (Ed.), People and Societies: Rom Harré and Designing the Social Sciences. Routledge. Harré, R., & Van Langenhove, L. (1991). Varieties of Positioning. Journal for the Theory of Social Behaviour, 21(4), 393–407. Hastings, A. (1997). The Construction of Nationhood (pp. 151–152). Cambridge University Press. Lwin, T. (2019). Languages, Identities and Education. Online Burma/Myanmar Library. https://www.burmalibrary.org/en/languages-identities-and-education Mang, P. Z. (2018). The Politics of Religious Conversion Among the Ethnic Chin in Burma. Studies in World Christianity, 24(3), 188–211, 188. Myanmar Census: Religion. (2016). Retrieved January 15, 2021, from https://myanmar.unfpa.org/sites/default/files/pub-pdf/UNION_2C_Religion_EN.pdf Ranger, T. (1999). The Nature of Ethnicity: Lessons from Africa. In E. Mortimer (Ed.), People, Nation, and State: The Meaning of Ethnicity and Nationalism (p. 21). I.B. Tauris. Safran, W. (2008). Language, Ethnicity and Religion: A Complex and Persistent Linkage. Nations and Nationalism, 14(1), 171–190, 177. Sakhong, L. H. (2003). In Search of Chin Identity. NIAS Press. Smits, J., & Gündüz-Hoşgör, A. (2003). Linguistic Capital: Language as a Socio-Economic Resource Among Kurdish And Arabic Women in Turkey. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 26(5), 829–853. Spolsky, B. (2009). Language Management. Cambridge University Press. Stephen Ni Kio. (2007). Lai Cauk Chuak -I-. Muko, 13–25. Vervest, W. (2014). The Lost Dictionary: A History of the Chin People, the Newland Family and the American Baptist Chin Mission. Vivid Publishing. Woods, A. (2006). The Role of Language in Some Ethnic Churches in Melbourne. In Explorations in The Sociology of Language and Religion (pp. 197–212, 199). John Benjamins Publishing Company. Zalmay, K. (2017). Language and Identity. International the News. https://www. thenews.com.pk/print/185439-Language-and-identity Zomi Theological College. (2007). Chin Church History. Zomi Theological College.

13 Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles of Migrant Integration Yining Wang and Ingrid Piller

Chinese Immigrant Converts Li Sha (pseudonym) is a successful entrepreneur in her mid-50s who runs several health-related businesses she set up herself. The energetic PhD-­ credentialled professional has not always been an entrepreneur, though. Until her migration to Australia in 2000, she enjoyed a stable career as a university academic at one of China’s top-ranked medical schools. Her migration not only transformed her highly regulated work-life but also her spirituality. Raised in an atheist environment, religion was alien to her until her mid-30s: “I had no contact with or interest in any religion, whether it is Christianity, Buddhism, or Taoism. I thought these were all false beliefs.” she says.1 The trauma of migration turned her into a religious seeker. Like many new migrants, Li Sha struggled to find adequate employment and to re-­ establish herself as a competent adult through the medium of a new

Y. Wang • I. Piller (*) Macquarie University, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_13

307

308 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

language (Piller, 2016). The economic insecurity took a heavy toll on her family, too: her marriage disintegrated, and Li Sha despaired at parenting her rebellious teenage daughter as a single mother. Comparing her life back in China with her new life in Sydney, Li Sha mused: Life in China was very stable. We did not have any worries and only needed to follow the work routine. But the uncertainty of our new life threw us off balance. When I started my business, I was so scared. I had never done anything like that before. I did not know whether I would be able to make any money or whether it would be enough to survive. In that situation, I craved protection and wanted to be able to predict the future.

Without extended family or a support network, Li Sha had to face this existential crisis alone. To find some calm, she started to visit a popular Chinese Buddhist temple in Sydney. However, attending the temple did not bring her any relief: “No matter how much incense I burned, I was still fearful and insecure.” Another new migrant from China and a recent convert to Christianity, Sai Na, suggested to Li Sha she should attend a church service. Initially reluctant, Li Sha eventually came along and had an intense conversion experience: Sai Na insisted on taking me to church. In that church I was touched by God, and that is the truth. I experienced a sense of safety and security, and I knew I had found my faith. Words cannot describe the awe I felt in that moment.

Li Sha was baptized into the faith shortly after and has been a devout Christian ever since. Twenty years on, she credits God with her economic success and with saving her daughter from being a “bad girl” to becoming a social worker. Li Sha’s experience is not unique. While Christians remain a small minority among Chinese people in general, Chinese migrants show high levels of interest in Christianity (Cao, 2019). Indeed, Christianity was a

13  Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles… 

309

frequent topic among the 31 Chinese migrant families who participated in Wang’s PhD study (Wang, 2020). Although the focus of that study was children’s heritage language maintenance and had nothing to do with religion, Christianity did, in fact, loom large for the participants. Eight of the 31 families (26%) had converted to Christianity since coming to Australia and others professed an interest and occasionally attended church. This figure is roughly in line with census statistics that show that around 20% of Chinese Australians (267,000 out of a total of 1,214,000) identify as Christian.2 The reason Christianity was such a popular topic among the families in Wang’s (2020) research was that many participants struggled with parenting in Australia. They did not want to raise their children in the strict and uncompromising Chinese ways they had been raised themselves, but they did not find western parenting appealing, either, considering it too lax. They regularly shared horror stories of out-of-control westernized children who failed academically or had slid into drug addiction or promiscuity. Against this background, joining a church was frequently pondered as a middle path that might allow parenting that is both relaxed and emotionally connected yet guiding the next generation on a path to good morals and a fulfilled life. This chapter explores conversion to Christianity among Chinese migrants to Australia from a language learning and settlement perspective. After introducing the research participants in this qualitative study, we begin by showing that conversion is a specific response to the existential crisis some migrants experience. Community support provided by church groups coupled with Christian spiritual beliefs may help to overcome that crisis and allow migrants to re-establish themselves as competent adults. Over time, a bilingual and hybrid spirituality allows converts to claim a legitimate place in Australian society as bilingual and bicultural Chinese Australians. Christian doctrines also offer a discourse to bridge the linguistic and cultural gap between first generation migrant parents and their children. We conclude by discussing implications of our findings for secular migrant settlement support services.

310 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

Participants The present study is an extension of two research projects: Wang’s (2020) ethnographic PhD research investigating heritage language maintenance among Chinese families in Sydney, and an ongoing research project directed by Piller examining the experiences of migrant parents with home learning during COVID-19 school closures. In total, 57 Chinese families with school-aged children participated in both studies. For the present paper, we re-approached ten adults from this group who had previously shared that they had converted to Christianity since coming to Australia. Seven of these, all women, agreed to be interviewed again with a focus on their religious beliefs and practices. This involved asking them about their pre-migration religious beliefs, their post-migration conversion journeys, and the role of Christianity in their language learning, settlement, and parenting experiences. The participants were born between 1961 and 1981. This means that, except for the oldest, Sai Na, they started school around the time of China’s economic “opening up” reforms of 1978 and grew up with China’s economic progress. They migrated to Australia between 2000 and 2015 when they were in their late 20s to late 40s. All of them are highly educated and hold at least a Bachelors’ degree, which they obtained in China. Prior to migration, all of them worked in professional roles in academia, engineering, finance, IT, and medicine. After migration, all experienced downward occupational mobility. By the time of the interview, which took place in 2020 between five and 20 years after migration, only two had managed to re-establish themselves in professional salaried positions. Three were self-employed and either ran their own business, as Li Sha did, or had a support role in their husband’s business. Two were housewives. All seven women had been raised as atheists in China but converted to Christianity within the first few years of settlement in Australia. In 2020, they attended four different churches of evangelical and pentecostal persuasions. Five of them attended English-language congregations and two attended a Chinese-language congregation. For most of them, the congregation they attended in 2020 was not their first church, and

13  Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles… 

311

membership was not necessarily exclusive. Yao Lan, a health professional back in China and a housewife in Australia, for instance, used the boom in virtual services during the COVID-19 pandemic to supplement her involvement in her English-medium church in Sydney with online services and sermons streamed by a congregation in Beijing. All seven women are highly involved in their congregations and engage in a variety of religious practices, including attending Sunday services and participating in Bible study groups, and other forms of discipleship. Additionally, they engage in private prayer, either individually or as a family, they privately read the Bible and other devotional materials, and seek out opportunities to grow in their faith online. They also consider it their duty to spread the faith and proselytize among other Chinese migrants. Indeed, their participation in the study may well have been motivated by a desire to evangelize Wang, as Yao Lan explained: I really hope you can convert and find God. You are a good person, why don’t you believe in God? Without God, you have to face so many challenges on your own. You will exhaust yourself. Your shoulders cannot carry all that pressure. You need God to be your savior, to protect you, and to relax you. You see, only very few people can board God’s ship. To think that you might not be eligible to get on his ship makes me cry.

In presenting the following analysis, we acknowledge that we write as outsiders to the faith espoused by the women.

Migration as an Existential Crisis Since the late 1990s, highly educated and economically successful professionals from mainland China have increasingly taken on migration as a cosmopolitan self-fashioning project (Martin, 2017). Disillusioned with negative aspects of Chinese society, this group seek out new lifestyles and opportunities for personal growth. However, they may find that the economic stability that undergirded their migration projects eludes them in the destination country (Han, 2011, 2014; Woods & Kong, 2020).

312 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

The transition from enjoying stable professional careers in China to their inability to find employment at their level in Australia came as a deep shock for the participants and their husbands. Their economic insecurity was compounded by an attendant loss of status and self-­confidence, strongly related to the language barrier, which made them feel incompetent. Their inability to re-establish themselves as highly successful competent adults in public turned into an existential crisis through the ways in which this affected their marriages and their relationships with their children. Cai Da described the crisis she experienced as “extreme pressure”, and went on to say, “We felt broken, both emotionally and physically”. Yao Lan’s case provides an example. Yao Lan comes from an upper-­ middle class family and worked as a medical professional in China. Due to her high-powered role as senior manager of a major hospital, she was able to hire a full-time nanny and housemaid, who relieved her of all housework and care duties. When Yao Lan’s family decided to migrate to Australia for the sake of their young daughter’s education, her husband stayed behind in China as breadwinner and Yao Lan took on the role of housewife and full-time carer of her daughter. She hoped that she would be able to continue her career in Australia but soon discovered that her English level was too low to pass the certification examination necessary to re-enter her profession. Furthermore, she experienced herself as incompetent even at routine tasks such as looking after her child and daily meal preparations: I had thought I was psychologically prepared at the time of migration, but it turned out that I underestimated the difficulties of living in another country. […] When I was in a grocery store, I had no idea what ingredients I should buy. […] I was in a panic. I was the only one to take care of my daughter in Australia, but she often fell ill or got a fever, and I did not even know how to message her teacher in English for sick leave. I was extremely anxious.

Given that their migration had been a project of self-seeking, the crises in which they found themselves seemed partly of their own making and some reported being consumed with guilt. Bai Rong and her husband, for instance, worked seven days a week to establish their business and had

13  Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles… 

313

no time to look after their young daughter. Bai Rong lamented, “Oh, she suffered so much, and she was so lonely.” The existential crisis of migration constituted the beginning of their religious seeking. Six of the seven participants used the exact same phrase to describe the situation in which they found themselves during their early time in Australia: “人的尽头” (rén de jìntóu; literally “the end of humans”; “ultimate hopelessness”). And where human capacity ends, the divine begins, as they went on to say: “神的开始” (shén de kāishı ̌; “the start of God”).

Transformation Through Conversion Spiritual seeking was not the primary purpose of turning to church, as the participants freely admitted. What they sought initially was practical support in the crises they experienced by making new friends that could fill in for the networks they had lost through migration. “I did not go to church to seek God,” Sai Na confided, “but to find an educated and decent group of people.” Church groups did indeed provide a community that could offer practical support. The experience of Yao Lan is a case in point: Most new immigrants feel overwhelmed because they are completely alone with all their problems. By comparison, I was much luckier. My church sisters and brothers helped me so much without asking for anything in return. When I came here, my mind was blank. They taught me English. They helped me to set up an English email. When the network at our house broke down, they came and called someone to have it repaired. They even came along to house inspections when we bought our home.

The practical assistance offered by the church community helped to build up a supportive and trusting relationship that could partly compensate for the loss of family and friendship networks in migration. Sai Na explicitly framed her church as family: “I don’t go to church to attend activities. The church is my home. And I go home every week to see my family.”

314 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

Religion consists not only of practices but also beliefs (Bennett, 2017). Like the practical support provided by churches, Christian teachings were also helpful to the participants in overcoming the crises in which they found themselves. This was particularly evident from the positive influence their new-found faith had on their marriages. Mediating in marital conflict was a form of support often undertaken by the wife of the minister or another senior church member, who would come on home visits for the purpose. Additionally, the new belief itself had positive consequences, as Cai Da explained: We were touched when we listened to the lectures on marriage. The minister said if both husband and wife consider themselves as God or Goddess, they will fight to prove who is stronger. Right? But if both listen to the real God, they will not fight. Our relationship did not improve straightaway but found a new direction. Gradually, we quarreled less often. When our relationship clearly improved, we became convinced that God exists. You see, we could not have solved this problem by ourselves. But if you trust in God and listen to him, it is easy.

Bai Rong was another participant who credited her Christian beliefs with saving her marriage, arguing that the strong position of women in Chinese society was jeopardizing harmonious relationships: “I am a tough woman, a typical product of Chinese education. Our education emphasizes that women hold up half the sky. That is why we are not ready to compromise. But that is impossible in marriage when both husband and wife want the final say.” The participants argued that Christian teachings enabled them to humble themselves and to become more obedient wives. Accepting such fundamental gender transformation did not come easy to the women. Yao Lan, for instance, reported that when she had first heard that it was God’s command for women to obey their husbands, she felt outraged. However, she discovered that practicing humility and obedience changed her husband, too, and improved their relationship. It is perhaps ironic that migration to Australia, a country espousing highly egalitarian gender ideals, resulted in the women giving up their previously held convictions of gender equality. However, this was not only due to accepting Christian

13  Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles… 

315

teachings of the subordinate role of women.3 The Australian migration system, in fact, tends to confer differential status as primary and secondary visa holder to men and women (Butorac, 2014; Piller & Lising, 2014). Subordinate gender roles were not the only Christian belief the participants chafed at. As explained above, it was initially the search for practical support that attracted them to church. However, that did not mean they were open to accepting the idea of the existence of a transcendental deity. Such a belief constituted a complete break with their strong socialization into atheism and the scientific worldview, as Bai Rong explained: “I told the minister that I was an atheist; that I believed in the big bang theory as the beginning of the universe and in evolution. These were the three cornerstones of my outlook on life.” Another reason for their difficulty with Christian beliefs was that they considered Chinese and Christian identities as incompatible. Yao Lan, for example, was impressed what “good people” Christians were. However, at the same time, she felt that “Jesus belongs to foreigners” and had no relevance to Chinese people. Some ministers further reinforced this dichotomy by preaching against the “false idols” of Buddhism and Taoism. Yao Lan was one of those who were initially aggravated by such doctrines: “I didn’t want to listen to this and just wanted to leave. However, I could not tear myself away from the sense of security I felt in church.” Reconciling the tension between desirable religious practices and problematic religious beliefs constituted a significant challenge. The participants resolved this tension by highlighting the congruence between Christian beliefs and traditional Chinese values of kindness, grace, gratitude, and humility. In this narrative, becoming a Christian was not such a big transformation after all because it involved espousing the values of one’s ancestors. Tan Xi asserted that “the teachings in the Bible are very similar to my family instructions.” She went on to talk about her grandfather who had instructed the family “to have three hearts: a heart of gratitude, a heart of humility, and a heart of fear.” Tan Xi quoted several Chinese proverbs and sayings from the Confucian Analects which are all compatible with Christianity. Examples include “滴水之恩, 涌泉相报” (“the grace of drops is repaid by the spring”, which is an exhortation to gratitude), “七尺之上有神明” (“there are gods seven feet above our

316 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

heads”, which is the equivalent to “God is watching”) and “三人行, 必 有我师” (“out of any three people, there is one who can be your teacher”, which is a warning against arrogance). Mai Li summarized the new person she had become as a Christian as follows: The most important result of my conversion has been the transformation of myself. Since I have become a believer, my outlook on life has fundamentally changed. I used to be self-important and considered my achievements a result of my own efforts. … I used to be worldly and materialistic. And I would compare myself with people who lived in a bigger house or whose children attended a better school. But now I am grateful for what I have.

In sum, what started out as a search for practical support to face the existential crisis of migration resulted in a radical transformation of the participants’ social networks and belief systems. In the vocabulary of their new faith, participants repeatedly stressed that their new beliefs had led to “生命的翻转” (shēngmìng de fānzhuǎn; “complete life transformation”).

Consolidating New Identities At the time of the interviews in 2020, the average time since baptism was more than 10 years (Yao Lan was a notable outlier with only one year as a baptized Christian). This means that not only the crisis of initial settlement but also the period of transformation through conversion was well in the past. Participants had time to consolidate their new identities, and they had become comfortable in new hybrid identities as Chinese-English bilinguals and Chinese Australians. In this section, we explore these hybrid linguistic and national identities. The choice of an English or Chinese medium church was an important aspect of the participants’ conversion journeys. At the time of the interview, five participants worshipped in an English-medium church and two in a Chinese-medium church. However, except for Tan Xi, all had

13  Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles… 

317

attended Chinese-medium churches at some point. Most had done so to speed up their learning of the new faith in the initial stages of their conversion journeys. Once they felt they had a good enough handle on both English and the Christian belief system, some switched to an English-­ medium church for practical or doctrinal reasons. Others felt that attending a Chinese-centered congregation was essential to their holistic spiritual development. Mai Li, for instance, attends a Chinese-centered church that has English, Cantonese, and Mandarin ministries. This multilingualism constitutes an essential attraction for her: “English and Chinese ministries differ in the target audience, the focus of the sermons, and some of their practices. I chose the Mandarin ministry because my Chinese identity can be best supported there.” In this case, the target audience of the Chinese-language ministries are first generation worshippers like our participants while the English-language ministry targets the second generation, who usually have low proficiency in Chinese, as we will explain below. Even the participants who worshipped in English-medium congregations supplemented their commitment to a particular church in Sydney with online Christian resources. The latter materials were reportedly almost exclusively in Chinese. However, this did not necessarily mean that they emanated from mainland China. Rather, the participants connected with a global Chinese Christian diaspora (Cao et al., 2020). Li Sha explained the attraction of both English and Chinese language sermons, as well as localized and global ones: The sermons in my current church [an English-medium evangelical congregation in Sydney] are mostly related to daily life in Australia. But Chinese ministers in America have had experience living in China and they frequently relate their sermons to events there. We identify with both sides, and that is why we want to listen to ministers from different backgrounds.

Over time, the participants also discovered that different languages and styles touched them differently. Bai Rong could not imagine giving one preference over the other: “I have my favorite English and Chinese pastors. The words of [name of English-speaking minister] are so full of passion and power that you can feel your heart beating. Chinese

318 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

preachers are more traditional but nonetheless excellent. [Name of Chinese-speaking minister] puts a lot of humor in his sermons, and the Chinese jokes and poems are very touching.” In the same way that both languages contributed to their spiritual development, their dual identities became fused, too. Bai Rong, for instance, experienced a strong sense of awakening of her Australian identity, when she heard the prime minister, Scott Morrison, himself a pentecostal Christian, pray for Australia during the COVID-19 pandemic: “At that moment, I realized I am Australian. I must serve both China and Australia. This is the work of the holy spirit.” Sai Na was the only participant who rejected a Chinese religious or political identity and felt exclusively committed to Australia. Her fervent anti-communism sometimes made others uncomfortable, as Yao Lan confided: Sai Na’s group pray for Australia to be free of its dependence on China. This makes me feel uneasy and I do not join those prayers. You see, my family and friends are still in China, and I cannot wish them ill. My group prays for both Australia and China. We hope that China stays safe and that our families there prosper.

This fusion of different national, linguistic, and religious identities in Chinese migrant converts has been described as “adhesive identities.” (Yang, 2010) Adhesive identities constitute an integration of different languages, different national identities, and different belief systems. This integration allowed the participants to find a comfortable space for themselves as first generation migrants in Australia. However, grounding the next generation in such a positive hybrid identity was more complicated, as we will explore in the next section.

Looking to the Next Generation The seven women are the mothers of nine children. Four of these were born in Australia and five arrived in Australia when they were at elementary school age (the youngest was five and the oldest ten). At the time of

13  Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles… 

319

data collection in 2020, the average age of these children was 17 years and ranged from eight to 27. All nine children are English-dominant and their Chinese proficiency is relatively low. Only two have some literacy in Chinese. The language proficiency of the second generation was not the main focus of this study but English dominance of the second generation is the most frequent heritage language outcome not only among Chinese (Wang, 2020) but other ethnolinguistic groups, too (Piller & Gerber, 2018; Torsh, 2020). The different linguistic repertoires of migrant parents and their children may mean that parents and children inhabit different discursive worlds. Such gaps between “Chinese parents” and “Australian children” were a major cause of parent-child problems, particularly in the teenage years. When “Chinese words” or “Chinese values” can no longer reach children, “God’s word” might seem the only way to connect to children about issues that were profoundly important to the participants. Mai Li explained this connection as follows: “If he [=her 17-year-old son] fears God and has faith, we can use God’s word to instruct him. Otherwise, children in Australia have too much so-called democracy, individual rights, and freedoms.” The most divisive issue was sexual orientation. While same-sex relationships enjoy equality before the law in Australia and discrimination based on sexual orientation is illegal, homosexuality was only decriminalized in China in 1997 and negative attitudes towards same-sex relationships persist (Xie & Peng, 2018). These different discourses in their old and new homes caused considerable anguish to some participants, such as Bai Rong, who frequently fought over the issue with her 16-year-old daughter: We first generation immigrants have strong Chinese values. We cannot educate our children according to the standards of Australian society. For example, my daughter will argue with us that homosexuality is recognized by the Australian government. And therefore we should accept it, too. It is hopeless for us to try and influence her through Chinese values. So bringing her back to God is urgent for us. We might influence her through cross is fix. (In the original Chinese interview, “cross is fix” is a code-switch into English).

320 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

Others, too, had accepted that influencing their children through the medium of Chinese and through Chinese values was difficult. In this culture clash, the Christian faith became the parents’ weapon of choice to positively guide their children and keep them safe from the perceived harms of Australian culture. Sai Na, for instance, took great pride in the Christian righteousness of her 27-year-old son, which she felt had kept him safe from the dangers faced by young people growing up in Australia: He is a firm believer and knows right from wrong, and what he can and cannot do. The things he cannot do include alcohol, drugs, and perverse sex, all of which are abhorrent to God. Why would anyone do things that are abhorrent to God? The greatest benefit of his faith is his fear of God.

While participants generally felt comfortable with their bilingual and bicultural identities, as outlined above, they struggled to find such a reconciliation of attitudes in their parenting. Partly due to different linguistic repertoires, they perceived Australia’s individualistic culture as constituting a formidable threat to their parental authority. They felt that Christianity allowed them to bridge this gap by providing an objective source of moral reference that was beyond linguistic and cultural diversity (Chen, 2006). Ironically, Christianity thus provided the participants with the vocabulary to instill what they considered Chinese values in the second generation; a generation that, by and large, lacked the linguistic skills to access those Chinese values directly by participating in Chinese-­ language discourses and reading its literatures. Engaging in church practices as families even allowed them to confidently “outsource” their children’s moral education to youth groups. The dreaded topics of alcohol, drugs, and sex outside heterosexual marriage were readily left to the church, as Yao Lan stated: “These youth leaders understand children’s psychology very well. They have the wisdom to guide them positively.” Youth leaders were thought to be able to reach children, even if parents could not, as Mai Li suggested: “Children want to listen to their peers rather than to me. What the youth group leader says has great influence on [my 17-year-old son]. He does not really want to listen to me, even if I say the same words.” Simply by connecting their children with other Christian youths, parents felt they were protecting

13  Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles… 

321

them from falling into bad company. Conversely, they considered church youths as academically studious and “clean-living”, and hence good company and good role models for their children. Such friends and role models made parenting in the new culture less fraught.

Conclusion In this chapter we have explored the intersection between conversion to Christianity and language learning, settlement, and parenting experiences of a group of first-generation Chinese Australians. In this concluding section we revisit the key findings and consider their implications for migrants’ social integration into secular institutions. The significance of considering secular implications derives from the fact that a third of the Australian population follow no religion and that figure is double for one of the largest migrant groups, Chinese Australians (Tao & Stapleton, 2018). First, we noted that the experience of migration triggered an existential crisis for the participants. This crisis arose from a combination of economic insecurity, loss of status, the initial language barrier, marital difficulties, and parenting challenges. These migration traumas were closely connected to the loss of social networks in migration. The absence of family and friendship networks itself was deeply unsettling. Furthermore, it could escalate relatively mundane problems (e.g., who to call in the case of a power outage; how to send a sick note to school) and elevate them to personal crisis level. Church groups provided instrumental support to address these problems. This included a host of practical matters but, most importantly, the creation of new social networks. In other words, church groups offered new social networks and became a substitute for extended family and friends. Given that migration is a key pillar of Australian nation building, how to help migrants navigate the initial phase of settlement is an important question for settlement support services. It seems to us that the potential for initial settlement problems in a new environment and the disorienting effects of having to establish new social networks from scratch as an adult continue to be underestimated. Our research has shown that the re-establishment of language- and culture-sensitive social networks is of

322 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

paramount importance for successful integration. Secular alternatives include (ethnic) community groups, migrant resource centers, and pastoral care programs available to international students in some universities. These initiatives are currently fragmented, unsystematic, and may or may not be available to a newcomer. Second, engaging in Christian practices ultimately requires an acceptance of Christian beliefs. Some of those beliefs were diametrically opposed to the participants’ pre-migration beliefs. For instance, non-­ believers and Christians hold different views on the existence of a transcendental deity and its characteristics, on the role of science in understanding the world, and on gender equality. Reconciling old and new beliefs constituted a significant challenge that only came at the price of a radical self-transformation. Self-transformation was experienced as positive and ultimately desirable by all our participants. This is, of course, to be expected as our sample consisted only of confirmed and devout Christians. For this research, we did not speak to anyone who might have turned to faith-based organizations for practical support yet unwilling or unable to commit to their belief systems. Similarly, we did not speak to anyone who might have converted at some point but have left the faith again since. Conversion and the self-transformation that goes hand in hand with it had obvious benefits for the participants’ wellbeing and their integration into Australian society. We would argue that in a secular society practical settlement support and human fellowship through new network building should be accessible to all migrants, irrespective of whether they accept a new belief system or not. To this end the provision of culturally-sensitive migrant support services particularly in the initial settlement phase is of paramount importance. Third, in the long-term, participants thrived by engaging in English-­ Chinese bilingual and bicultural practices. Being able to draw on both their languages and cultures, and bringing them together in a holistic hybrid fusion made them feel settled and comfortable. The Christian congregations they attended were pragmatic about the use of bilingual repertoires. They also readily combined Christian and Chinese ways of doing things, as long as core doctrine was not affected.

13  Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles… 

323

This linguistic and cultural syncretism significantly contributed to participants’ long-term language learning, settlement, and overall integration into Australian society. This constitutes a significant contrast between these Christian churches and secular institutions such as schools, universities, and workplaces. The latter continue to implement English-only practices associated with “the monolingual mindset”. The harmful and exclusionary consequences of institutional monolingualism in the face of multilingual populations are clear (Piller, 2016; Ellis et al., 2010; Gogolin, 2021; Piller et al., 2020). However, adopting multilingual and hybrid linguistic practices is often resisted because it is deemed impractical. However, the adhesive identities enabled in the Christian congregations discussed here shows otherwise. As such, our findings here echo emergent research into faith-based organization as educational spaces for identity formation, community development, and language learning (Han & Varghese, 2019). Finally, all parenting is challenging and migrant parenting maybe even more so. How to guide the next generation to keep them save from harm, to fulfil their potential, and to lead ethical lives contributing to the common good can be an enormous source of anxiety for migrant parents as they navigate not only generational but also linguistic and cultural gaps. The participants saw instilling the fear of God and a strong faith in Christian dogma as a way to bridge these gaps. The gaps between migrant parents and their children evident here are as stark as they are because the two generations usually have different linguistic repertoires and move in different discourse worlds. While both generations are bilingual, our participants are Chinese-dominant while their children are English-dominant. As a result, the Chinese stories, literatures, and discourses that shaped the parents’ moral education are not readily available to their children. By contrast, English-medium discourses were feared by the parents as they almost exclusively perceived the negative aspects of a western moral education. The parenting experiences documented here show a clear failure on the part of Australian schools to minimize those gaps. This failure is twofold: first, it relates to the well-documented inability of the Australian school system to support the language learning aspirations of heritage language learners (Clyne, 2005; Cruickshank & Wright, 2016). Second, it relates

324 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

to weaknesses in institutional communication with parents from non-­ English-­speaking backgrounds (Piller et  al., 2021). The former means that the second generation, by and large, does not have the capacity to deeply engage with the discourse worlds that shaped their parents’ socialization, world views, and values. The latter means that parents lack a good understanding of their children’s Australian education. This may give rise to fears of and anxieties about the education their children are receiving. In the interest of social cohesion, it is vital to overcome these barriers by improving heritage language education and home-school communication. Acknowledgement  We gratefully acknowledge the participants who let us into their lives and shared their conversion, language learning, settlement, and parenting stories with us. We also thank Dr. Gegentuul Baioud, Dr. John G. Byrnes, Dr. Jia Li, Dr. Hanna Torsh, and Dr. Jie Zhang, as well as the editors and an anonymous reviewer. They all provided generous feedback on a previous version of this paper,

Notes 1. Interviews were conducted in Mandarin Chinese by the first author. All direct quotes are translations. 2. The figure is approximate because it depends on how the group of Chinese Australians is defined. In the 2016 Australian census, Christians accounted for 25% of people with Chinese ancestry, 15% of people with at least one parent born in China, and 18% of people who speak a Chinese language at home. Christianity is the largest religion among Chinese Australians, followed by Buddhism with 12–15%, but far outranked by those who claim no religion with 54–69%. This is in comparison to 52% Christians, 2% Buddhists, and 30% without a religion among all Australian residents (Tao & Stapleton, 2018). 3. The idea of male headship is contested in Christian doctrine but widely accepted among evangelical and pentecostal groups (Stasson, 2014).

13  Christian Bilingual Practices and Hybrid Identities as Vehicles… 

325

References Bennett, B. P. (2017). Sacred Languages of the World. Wiley. Butorac, D. (2014). ‘Like a Fish Not in Water’: How Language and Race Mediate the Social and Economic Inclusion of Women Migrants to Australia. Australian Review of Applied Linguistics, 37(3), 234–248. Cao, N. (2019). A Sinicized World Religion?: Chinese Christianity at the Contemporary Moment of Globalization. Religions, 10(8), 459. Cao, N., Giordan, G., & Yang, F. (2020). Chinese Religions Going Global. Brill. Chen, C. (2006). From Filial Piety to Religious Piety: Evangelical Christianity Reconstructing Taiwanese Immigrant Families in the United States. International Migration Review, 40(3), 573–602. Clyne, M. (2005). Australia’s Language Potential. UNSW Press. Cruickshank, K., & Wright, J. (2016). A Tale of Two Cities: What the Dickens Happened to Languages in NSW? Australian Review of Applied Linguistics, 39(1), 72–94. Ellis, E. M., Gogolin, I., & Clyne, M. (2010). The Janus Face of Monolingualism: A Comparison of German and Australian Language Education Policies. Current Issues in Language Planning, 11(4), 439–460. Gogolin, I. (2021). Multilingualism: A Threat to Public Education or a Resource in Public Education? European Educational Research Journal. https://doi. org/10.1177/1474904120981507 Han, H. (2011). ‘Love Your China’ and Evangelise: Religion, Nationalism, Racism and Immigrant Settlement in Canada. Ethnography and Education, 6(1), 61–79. Han, H. (2014). “Westerners,” “Chinese,” and/or “Us”: Exploring the Intersections of Language, Race, Religion, and Immigrantization. Anthropology & Education Quarterly, 45(1), 54–70. Han, H., & Varghese, M. (2019). Language Ideology, Christianity, and Identity: Critical Empirical Examinations of Christian Institutions as Alternative Spaces. Journal of Language, Identity & Education, 18(1), 1–9. https://doi. org/10.1080/15348458.2019.1569525 Martin, F. (2017). Mobile Self-Fashioning and Gendered Risk: Rethinking Chinese Students’ Motivations for Overseas Education. Globalisation, Societies and Education, 15(5), 706–720. https://doi.org/10.1080/1476772 4.2016.1264291 Piller, I. (2016). Linguistic Diversity and Social Justice. Oxford University Press.

326 

Y. Wang and I. Piller

Piller, I., & Gerber, L. (2018). Family Language Policy Between the Bilingual Advantage and the Monolingual Mindset. International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism, 1–14. https://doi.org/10.1080/1367005 0.2018.1503227 Piller, I., & Lising, L. (2014). Language, Employment and Settlement: Temporary Meat Workers in Australia. Multilingua, 33(1/2), 35–59. Piller, I., Zhang, J., & Li, J. (2020). Linguistic Diversity in a Time of Crisis: Language Challenges of the COVID-19 Pandemic. Multilingua, 39(5), 503–515. https://doi.org/10.1515/multi-­2020-­0136 Piller, I., Bruzon, A. S., & Torsh, H. (2021). Monolingual school websites as barriers to parent engagement. Language and Education, 1–18. https://doi. org/10.1080/09500782.2021.2010744 Stasson, A. (2014). The Politicization of Family Life: How Headship Became Essential to Evangelical Identity in the Late Twentieth Century. Religion and American Culture: A Journal of Interpretation, 24(1), 100–138. Tao, Y., & Stapleton, T. (2018). Religious Affiliations of the Chinese Community in Australia: Findings from 2016 Census Data. Religions, 9(4), 93. Retrieved from https://www.mdpi.com/2077-­1444/9/4/93 Torsh, H. (2020). Linguistic Intermarriage in Australia: Between Pride and Shame. Palgrave Macmillan. Wang, Y. (2020). The Heritage Language Maintenance of Chinese Migrant Children and Their Families. Ph.D, Macquarie University, Retrieved from http://minerva.mq.edu.au:8080/vital/access/manager/Repository/mq:71673 Woods, O., & Kong, L. (2020). Fractured Lives, Newfound Freedoms? The Dialectics of Religious Seekership Among Chinese Migrants in Singapore. Asian Studies Review, 44(4), 652–670. Xie, Y., & Peng, M. (2018). Attitudes Toward Homosexuality in China: Exploring the Effects of Religion, Modernizing Factors, and Traditional Culture. Journal of Homosexuality, 65(13), 1758–1787. https://doi.org/1 0.1080/00918369.2017.1386025 Yang, F. (2010). Chinese Christians in America: Conversion, Assimilation, and Adhesive Identities. Penn State Press.

14 The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality Zehavit Gross and Suzanne D. Rutland

In Judaism and the Jewish experience language, religion and spirituality are deeply entwined and embedded. The holiest day in the Jewish week is the Sabbath – Shabbat in Hebrew – which starts with sundown. Before the evening service begins, Shabbat is welcomed in with the Jewish prayer, Lecha Dodi (Come my Beloved). Drawing on the biblical book, Song of Songs, this emotive prayer equates ‘dodi’, my beloved, with God, and the Jewish people welcoming in the Shabbat bride. It was written in Safed, the Northern Galilee town where a small group of exiles from Spain developed a new Jewish centre in Ottoman Palestine during the early sixteenth century. In this period, Safed became a powerhouse of Jewish innovation, combining halakhic (legal) Judaism through the key Z. Gross Faculty of Education, Bar-Ilan University, Ramat Gan, Israel e-mail: [email protected] S. D. Rutland (*) Department of Hebrew, Biblical & Jewish Studies, University of Sydney, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_14

327

328 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

codification of Jewish law, the Shulchan Aruch (Prepared Table) by Joseph Caro, with the development of Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism, through the teachings of Isaac Luria, encapsulating Judaism’s spirituality. Thus, Lecha Dodi, can be seen as representing the religious and spiritual elements of Judaism, with its stirring messianic messages pulling at the heartstrings. Whilst it can be translated, the original Hebrew language creates a much stronger connection, and it is always sung in its medieval Hebrew form, even in Reform Temple services where much of the prayer is in English. The focus of this chapter is to investigate these connections between Jewish spirituality, religious practice and knowledge of the Hebrew language. Drawing on findings from a study of the connections between spirituality, health and well-being, which was conducted across the major faith groups in Australia from 2019–2020 (Gross & Rutland, 2021) and a longitudinal study from 2008–2015 of Jewish education in Australia (Gross & Rutland, 2020, 2014), we shall argue that, despite these key connections and the importance of language, developing positive attitudes and love for Hebrew among young Jewish students is a challenge in the post-modern world. This can lead to a distancing from the Jewish religion and spirituality, having a negative impact on young people’s sense of belonging, health and well-being.

Interrelationship Between Language and Religious Identity: The Socio-Cultural Context Language is considered to be a basic constituent in the formation of individual identity (Vygotsky, 1978). It serves not only as a means of communication but also implies a symbolic value. People use it, sometimes subconsciously, to develop and strengthen or even to create a sense of belonging to a specific group, culture or nation (Zisenwine, 1997). Language is also considered to be a means of socialization and connection to a designated society and culture. Benedict Anderson (1983) has argued that language is the binding force for all ‘imagined communities.’ It serves as a means to convey the cultural heritage for future generations. Research has found connections between language and identity, sense of

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

329

belonging and relationships between individuals, groups and nations (Zisenwine, 1997; Spolsky, 1986; Safran, 2005; Morahg, 1999). Thus, language has a major role in the construction of the self-consciousness of ethnic and religious groups in general and minority groups specifically. It is not a merely technical process but a substantial constituent of identity, which draws on sociocultural and historical processes. A key influence in relation to language and identity has been the work of Russian sociologist, Lev Vygotsky from the 1930s, who developed sociocultural theory and argued that the development of an individual’s identity is a result of the external influence of the society, which includes historical and institutional factors (Vygotsky, 1978). Vygotsky considered language to be a major vehicle by which these sociocultural processes shape individual identity formation, including their religious identity and understanding. He perceived this as a dynamic process that occurs as a result of human interaction. In his estimation, tools, language and other sign systems are the cultural artifacts that form the basis for this social activity. Penuel and Wertsch (1995) particularly stress the importance of language as a prerequisite to mediate between the sociocultural factors and the way an individual chooses to shape her identity. They posit that: “In this connection, identity formation as a moment of rhetorical action, concerned with using language in significant interpersonal contexts to form identities, is offered as a theoretical approach with a concrete research program to examine its needs”. Schachter and Galili-Schachter (2012) have further extended our knowledge with their concept of “identity literacy”, which they define as: “…readers’ proficiency in the practice of engaging the meaning systems embedded within texts, considering while doing so whether to adopt, adapt, or reject these as part of their own personal meaning systems.” In this way, they draw on the concepts of Penuel and Wertsch (1995) in terms of integrating the ideas of Vygotsky (1978). They explain the differences between identity literacy and previously developed concepts of cultural and critical literacy. These issues come to play a key role in religiosity because of centrality of religious texts, where their original language provides a clearer understanding and so impacts on religious identification and spirituality.

330 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

Language serves not only as a means of communication but also implies a symbolic value which is central to all religious prayer and beliefs, impacting on spirituality and is clearly the case with Hebrew.

 he Importance of Hebrew: Shaping Religious T and Spiritual Identity Most scholars argue that throughout the two thousand years of Diaspora, Hebrew was the cohesive glue for the Jewish people, helping to retain a shared Jewish identity. It was always the language of prayer and study, but it was also used in everyday life (Schiff, 1996). John Myhill (2004) presents a different view, arguing that personal ancestry and religious practice were more important (13–18), but he still notes the role Hebrew constituted the “pan-Jewish language”. The hybrid languages that emerged, such as Yiddish and Ladino, were written in the Hebrew alphabet and included many Hebrew words and expressions. In the post-emancipation period of European Jews during the nineteenth century, the revival of Hebrew was a major factor in the Jewish national revival in the Land of Israel. It also plays an important role in the Jewish sociocultural identity, both in Israel and in the Jewish Diaspora because it involves both religious and national understandings linked to the broader Jewish experience and civilisation. Hebrew is the language of Jewish tradition and literature and reflects the essence of Jewish culture. Technically, it is possible to read Jewish prayers and literature in translation, but to understand the deeper layers of the content, one needs to read these writings in the original language, since translations can never fully capture the full flavour of the original language (Zisenwine, 1997). Hebrew is an ethnic and heritage language (HL), so the whole cultural richness of Jewish tradition can be lost in translation. In his article on language and identity, Leon Wieseltier states: Our language is our incommensurable inflection of our humanity, our unique way of presenting, not least to ourselves, what is our unique way through the world… Even our universalism comes to us (like everybody else’s universalism) in a particular language (Wieseltier, 2011).

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

331

Thus, Hebrew literacy is central to Jewish literacy. Alvin Schiff (1996) argues that Hebrew has a “bipolar power” because: “It is the vehicle of a sacred past of eternal Jewish Values. At the same time, it is a major expression of contemporary Jewish vitality”(Schiff, 1996). This duality creates pedagogic challenges in terms of clarifying aims and goals of Hebrew teaching (Zisenwine, 1997; Schiff, 1996; Myhill, 2004; Ofek, 1996; Brosh, 1996; Omoniyi & Fishman, 2006; Fishman, 2001).

 pirituality, Religion and Its Connection S to Health and Well-Being The need for spirituality appears to be universal (Park et al., 2017) because spirituality is cross-cultural and part of all religious beliefs and faith traditions. For example, in a study of adolescents in eight different continents, 70 per cent of young people claimed that spirituality was a significant dimension in their lives (Benson et al., 2012). As well, spirituality was found in many countries to be a significant contributor to physical health (Miller & Thoresen, 2003) and people’s ability to cope with illness because it serves as a psychological coping mechanism and an identity anchor. Furthermore, many studies of psychiatric patients have argued that mentally ill patients should be encouraged to undertake a program on spirituality during their treatment. Finding some form of spirituality could help such patients cope more effectively with their mental distress (Russo-Netzer & Mayseless, 2017). All religions focus on the concepts of the “greater good” and also on the importance of “giving”, where ten characteristics have been defined. These include religious celebrations and gratefulness to a higher being, helping others to help themselves; forgiveness; courage; respect (a key element of the ten commandments); compassion; loyalty; and listening (Nielsen, 2010). For Judaism, all this is achieved through the medium of Hebrew prayer, which is central to Jewish practice. In a specific study of prayer in Australia, De Souza and Watson (De Souza & Watson, 2016) argued that prayer is a major communal religious practice which fosters solidarity among students assisting them to create a sense of community. Prayer is an act which reflects the inner

332 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

layers of spirituality which is innate in human beings (De Souza & Watson, 2016). Further, they argue that it helps to cultivate a sense of friendship (De Souza & Watson, 2016) and a feeling of togetherness (Kohn, 2020). Thus, prayers can create a “safe zone” for the students, thereby contributing to their spirituality, health and wellbeing (JacobsonMaisels, 2013). A central part of Jewish prayer is expressing gratitude to God with every daily action. There are many short Hebrew blessings and prayers of thanks. For example, Jews begin the day with the prayer, Modeh Ani [I gratefully acknowledge], which expresses gratitude to God for the new day. Medical research has demonstrated that expressing gratitude each day has the same health benefits as direct giving (Nielsen, 2010). Nielsen asked his University of Canberra students to test this assertion. At the start of his course, they took the Australian Unity Wellbeing Index survey. Then he asked them to keep a diary for six weeks and at each day’s conclusion to list three things for which they were grateful. After six weeks, all of the participants had increased their satisfaction noticeably in all eight areas listed by the Wellbeing Index. Nielsen (2010) commented on this project’s limitations, because there was no control group and it was difficult to assess the impact of the class material. However it was clear that positive psychology/giving, whether through the education process, the experiment or both, led to improved wellbeing (Nielsen, 2010). In the light of his research, he asks: “Giving to others would seem to be a powerful medicine – perhaps an antidote to our own inertia, apathy and fear. Could it be that we can create a strong ballast, a conscience in students by simply enabling them to do good on a daily basis?”(Nielsen, 2010). Currently, there is therefore a growing awareness of the importance of promoting protective factors for good health, rather than just reducing risk factors, and that there is a need to start this process from an early age. Empirical evidence has shown that religious involvements and other religious practices are linked to other positive outcomes including greater psychological wellbeing, character strengths, reduced mental illness and healthier behaviours (Pargament, 2007, 2013). Most of these studies

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

333

have only involved adults, with fewer studies including the connections between adolescence, religious involvement, protection against certain negative behaviours and the promotion of positive health practices. Chen and Vanderweele (2018) sought to further investigate the link between religious practices and better physical, psychological, and mental health, as well as strengthening character traits among adolescents. They conducted a major longitudinal study from 1999 to 2013, using the frequency of attendance at public services and of private meditation and prayer. Their sample was predominantly white, with more female participants. They found that 60 per cent attended religious services weekly and 36 per cent undertook meditation and private prayer daily. The results from this study “suggest that religious involvement in adolescence may be one… protective factor for a range of health and wellbeing outcomes” (6–7) with the active religious participants demonstrating greater psychological wellbeing, character strengths and lower risks of mental illness. Religious behaviour reduced the probability of smoking and drug abuse (both major health risks), deviant sexual behaviours, depression and anxiety, and fostered forgiveness (Chen & Vanderweele, 2018). They found that adolescents with physical disabilities tended to practice a higher level of prayer, both public and private. Prayer is central to religious belief which is, in the final analysis, an emotional and spiritual response that requires love and transcendence which cannot be explained rationally. Viktor Frankl (1985), in his book, Man’s Search for Meaning, wrote: …being human always points, and is directed, to something, or someone, other than oneself, be it a meaning to fulfil or another human being to encounter. The more one forgets himself, by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love, the more human he is and the more he actualizes himself. What is called self-actualization is not an attainable aim at all, for the simple reason that the more one would strive for it, the more he would miss it. In other words, self-actualization is possible only as a side-effect of self-transcendence. (https://www.catholiceducation.org/en/ religion-­and-­philosophy/spiritual-­life/man-­s-­search-­for-­meaning.html)

334 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

Encouraging giving amongst students, something inbuilt into Jewish practice, can be transformational. To give of oneself, one needs to understand the importance of giving. This is incorporated into the Hebrew term, tzedakah translated into English as “charity” but really stemming from the concept of justice and the sense that, rich or poor, everyone should find a way of giving tzedakah, which recent research has shown to be important for health and well-being. Research of Crawford and Rossiter (2006) in Australia focused on the importance of the search for meaning (beliefs and values), identity and spirituality, including integration between these three elements, for young people’s development. They note that traditionally spirituality has been associated with religion and prayer but in the post-modern world the concept has taken on a separate connotation to traditional religious understandings. They argue that spirituality “has become a ubiquitous term covering many different aspects of personal life and culture… it figures in areas as diverse as ecology, new age, healing, health sciences, business and education”(Crawford & Rossiter, 2006). Rossiter (2011) stresses that spirituality is “strategically placed like a bridge connecting traditional religious ways of seeing people in God’s universe with contemporary secular psychological ways of interpreting personal development” (30: 16). However, Rossiter (2011) and Crawford and Rossiter (2006) believe that while the concept of spirituality has taken on these additional, broader aspects, the key role religion can play in young people’s lives should not be discounted. Within this construct, Hebrew plays an important role.

Attitudes to Language Acquisition The concept of attitude refers to a positive or negative approach towards a person, place, event, religion, culture, or language. Some researchers (Gardner, 2007; Valdivia et al., 2011) have focused the impact of affective factors on attitudes towards language acquisition whilst others have included cognitive and behavioural. From their empirical, mixed method study, using both quantitative and qualitative data, Ofner and

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

335

Tannenbaum (2012) argue that there are four parameters for the investigation the attitude towards language acquisition: 1. The love of language – emotional attitudes towards the language and the way it sounds. 2. The use of language – the everyday use of the language and the extent to which it becomes an integral part of the cultural life and learning of the participants. 3. Importance of the language – the extent of its importance to the participants and their children and their willingness to pass it on to the next generation as an integral part of cultural heritage. 4. The religious connotations of the language – the extent of holiness, which is ascribed to the language according to the interviewees. As discussed, the focus of this chapter is on the connections between spirituality and religion on the one hand and attitudes towards Hebrew language acquisition on the other hand. Our thesis is that if Hebrew language acquisition is undervalued and viewed negatively, this also impacts negatively on Jewish religious identity and spirituality because these are intertwined in Judaism. To verify this thesis, we have drawn on the data from two different studies to address the connections between spirituality, religion and language as explained in the methodology section.

Methodology The data for this chapter emerges from combining findings from two separate, ethnographic studies undertaken by the authors (Gross & Rutland, 2014, 2020, 2021). Both of these studies used grounded theory (Strauss & Corbin, 1997) methodology, a qualitative research method that aims to investigate systematic social processes existing within human relations and actions (Strauss & Corbin, 1997). It enables us to follow patterns of interaction and behaviours that are grounded in real life events. The first, more recent project [Study 1, 2019–2020] was a broader study of Special Religious Education (SRE) in government schools located in Australia’s eastern states (Gross & Rutland, 2021). This study

336 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

included six main faith groups: Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism and Baha’i. One of the research questions was: “How does SRE foster the spirituality, health and wellbeing of students at both the primary and high school levels?” For this broader study we conducted a total of n.58 in-depth interviews with teachers and graduates, some of whom were already teaching. For this chapter we focused on the responses of the Jewish teachers and graduate teachers (n.7). Given the commonality in responses to the question on spirituality, the data from the other faith community interviews helped us to gain a broader perspective. The second, earlier study undertaken by the same researchers [Study 2, 2008–2015] was longitudinal, conducted between 2009–2015 in Jewish day schools in the two major Jewish centres – Melbourne, Victoria and Sydney, New South Wales – three schools in each centre. The relevant question for this study was “What is a successful Jewish School? Is Hebrew successful?”. It included the triangulation of interviews with all key stakeholders (principals, teachers, students and parents) representing the religious spectrum; 27 class observations; and analysis of major curricula documents and information on the relevant websites (Gross & Rutland, 2014, 2020). A total of n.96 individual interviews were conducted with teachers (n.33), principals (n.6), other key stakeholders (n.12) and parents (n.45), as well as focus groups with students (n.212 students) and graduates (42). Both the interviews and observations provided a detailed description of the current problems being investigated, including Hebrew teaching and learning. The relevant data from the two studies were analyzed in a five stage process: (1) open coding, in which recurring topics were identified and defined; (2) axial coding, involving the formulation of categories defining criteria and continuing theoretical sampling (spirituality, attitudes to Hebrew language acquisition); (3) selective coding, which consists of refining and finalizing criteria to include a series of categories; (4) formulating the hierarchy and identifying core categories (spirituality, religion and language); and (5) creating a category-based theoretical structure linked to the literature and proposing a theoretical model. This data analysis based on the utilization of the data from these two studies enables us to gain greater insight into the themes being investigated in this book, as discussed in the findings section.

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

337

Findings In this section we first discuss the findings from Study 1, where the Jewish interviewees note the importance of spirituality, the role that prayer and meditation plays in the Special Religious Education (SRE) classes in government schools and how the importance of giving (tzedakah) is also incorporated into those classes (Study 1), as well as in Jewish day schools (Study 2). We then discuss the findings from the longitudinal Study 2 in relation to attitudes to Hebrew language acquisition in Jewish schools via the lens of Ofner and Tannenbaum’s parameters of “love”, “use”, “importance” and “religious connotation” (Ofner & Tannenbaum, 2012). We demonstrate that the findings were largely negative. This is then connected to the key issues of the importance of relevance and motivation for effective language acquisition and the subsequent implications if these are negative for religious identity and spirituality.

The Importance of Spirituality In our SRE study (Study 1) we found that all our interviewees stressed the importance of spirituality in religion, explaining that there are three main domains in human existence: the physical, the intellectual and the spiritual (body, mind and soul). This belief was endorsed by our Jewish interviewees, as one Jewish SRE graduate/teacher explained: RE is all about spirituality, connecting their souls to something greater, teaching them that it’s not just the HSC [Higher School Certificate for matriculation] that’s daunting them. There’s so much more to offer them in life and not just work, not just the pressures of the physical world but also there’s a spiritual world, just trying to enrich their souls as much as possible (Study 1, female SRE Jewish graduate/teacher, #1, Sydney, 2019).

Within the spiritual framework, the importance of prayer was recognized.

338 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

The Role of Prayer and Meditation Prayer is a regular part of Jewish education, both in Jewish SRE in government schools and in the Jewish day schools. In the government schools, the primary classes start lessons with the prayer, Modeh Ani, which is the prayer one says on waking up in the morning and thanking God for being alive. In response to the question “How does SRE foster the spirituality, health and wellbeing of students at both the primary and high school levels?”, one Jewish interviewee (n.7) found that her SRE high school classes provided a break from the stress that the students experience in their daily lives and argued that the religious education classes “just really [give] them that break every two weeks, every month, gives them enough energy and mental strength, emotional strength, spiritual strength to conquer whatever challenges they face until the next class” (Study 1, Female SRE Jewish teacher/graduate, #1, Sydney, 2019). Thus, spirituality and prayer clearly are seen as coming together as a central part of the religious experience.

The Significance of Giving The importance of teaching children the value of giving, or tzedakah in Hebrew, was recognised. Within the Jewish community, the Hebrew term, ‘tzedakah’, is commonly used, because it is so difficult to translate into English, and this applies to so many different Hebrew terms which are common parlance in Jewish education, highlighting the importance of language. Both in Jewish SRE/RI in government schools and in Jewish day schools, the students have regular charity campaigns with different activities focusing on tzedakah. Here we note the use of the Hebrew term for ‘charity’ which is consistent with Gilead’s study, which also found the use of such Hebrew terms common throughout the school (see Chap. 15). At the same time, if the language is not well taught, it can have negative repercussions on the students’ religious and spiritual identities which can carry into adulthood. This was seen in the four main parameters, “love”, “use”, “importance” and “religious connotation”.

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

339

Attitudes to Hebrew Language Learning In Study 2 in relation to the Australian Jewish day schools, we asked the questions: “What is a successful Jewish School? Is Hebrew successful?”. As we demonstrated previously (Gross & Rutland, 2014, 2020), in general in relation to Ofner and Tannenbaum’s first criteria, “love”, students and parents expressed very negative comments about their Hebrew learning and this was also reflected in our classroom observations, where the students were much less engaged in their Hebrew learning (Gross & Rutland, 2020). In terms of their second criteria, “use”, the number of Hebrew teaching hours in Australia is much less than that envisaged by the creators of the main Hebrew curricula used in other diaspora centres, with classes only being held three or four times a week (Gross & Rutland, 2014). This further detracts from the use of Hebrew and indicates the lower importance the community attributes to Hebrew, their third criteria, “importance” (Gross & Rutland, 2014, 2020). In terms of the “religious connotations” of the language, their fourth criteria, all our interviewees did raise the importance of the Hebrew language, including those who are secular, because of its role in Jewish prayer (Gross & Rutland, 2014, 2020). However, students’ attitude to the regular morning prayer sessions tended to be negative, because of their difficulties of learning the language due to poor motivation (Kohn, 2020; Gross, 2013).

Relevance and Motivation In Study 2, when responding to the question of ‘What are the characteristics of a good Jeiwsh School”, many of our interviewees, both students in their focus groups (n.212) and teachers in their individual interviews (n.33), argued that Hebrew is not seen as relevant to the present generation (Gross & Rutland, 2020). Many young people feel that if they decide to visit Israel after school, they can learn Hebrew in Israel, and if they want to attend synagogue services, it is much easier to read the English translation of the prayers. This was seen in some of the responses we heard in our interviews:

340 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

… A lot of kids have no motivation to do Hebrew. They don’t understand the point… Then you get into a vicious cycle I think of unmotivated kids [are] not good at languages, because they can’t be bothered, disrupting the class (Study 1, student, #2, Melbourne, 2014). … I keep coming back to the example of maths… Sometimes it is pretty boring. But what is the difference? They know you have got to do maths, and everyone does maths in every school and you get tested in maths. They don’t have that context for Ivrit [Hebrew] and many of their parents don’t give it to them (Study 2, student, #1, Melbourne, 2014).

These responses, representative of the many comments we heard, and repeated by students in the Gilead study, mean that there is a sense that someone can be Jewish without knowing Hebrew (see Chap. 15).

 onnection of Language to Religious Identity C and Spirituality Most of our interviewees did not mention that there was a connection between language and identity. However, one reflective interviewee noted that: [Studying Hebrew is important] because it has been with us for two thousand years and if not then, we could stop needing to exist as Jews and it would be much easier for us… but as long as we are going to exist as Jews then there are certain things that we can’t ignore and those two [Jewish identity and Hebrew] I think are becoming more and more important… (Study 2, male director #1, Melbourne, 2009).

The key role Hebrew plays in Jewish identity is expressed in the fact that there are two different Hebrew words for language: “safah” and “lashon”. Again, one of our interviewees explained the difference between these two words and how they relate to the issue of identity: Yes. In each of them individually, in terms of identity, it needs to become part of the identity, not a subject. Hebrew is – I tell everyone here that

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

341

every language is called a Safah from the word Safta’im [lips], except for Hebrew; it’s called Lashon Kodesh from the word Lashon, tongue. Lashon is something internal … This needs to be coming from our heart. It shouldn’t just be lip service, it shouldn’t just be Safah, it shouldn’t just be external; it needs to come from within. In terms of identity, it needs to be core of who we are but not just a Hebrew, as part of everything else we do (Study 2, male director #2, Sydney, 2014).

In a global chaotic world, language is an important anchor and form of identification, but our research found that there is mainly lip service to the importance of Hebrew, rather than ensuring that it is internalized (Gross & Rutland, 2014, 2020). Since the students find their Hebrew lessons boring and lacking stimulation, they are “turned off” from their Hebrew Studies and this impacts negatively on their Jewish religious identity and spirituality.

Discussion and Conclusions Our thesis in this chapter is that in Judaism religion, spirituality and Hebrew are deeply interconnected. Therefore, if students develop negative attitudes to their Hebrew language acquisition, this can have a negative impact on their Jewish religious identification and practice, impacting also on their spirituality (Gross & Rutland, 2021). In order to verify this thesis, we have drawn on the data set from two different studies, the first (Study 1) relating to a question on religious education and spirituality (Gross & Rutland, 2021) and the second relating to attitudes to Hebrew teaching (Gross & Rutland, 2014, 2020).. Our findings demonstrate that while Jewish teachers recognise the importance of spirituality, Jewish students demonstrate negative attitudes to Hebrew acquisition. We argue that this has a negative impact on their religious identification and spirituality. As we demonstrated in Study 1, spirituality and religious identity still play an important role in contemporary society. However, religious identity formation is a complex process, which is moulded by diverse cultural

342 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

and historical factors. For Jewish children in both government schools and Jewish day schools, these include both internal Jewish elements and the broader Australian culture. Penuel and Wertsch (1995) suggest that: … the cultural and historical resources for identity formation do not constitute a single, undifferentiated whole, but represent a diversity of meditational means. In that way, identity may be conceived as formed when individuals choose on particular occasions to use one or more resources from a cultural “tool kit” to accomplish some action (Penuel & Wertsch, 1995).

However, for most Jewish children in Australia Hebrew is not part of that “tool kit”. Brosh (1996) argues that there are three major sociological perspectives in language diffusion: the first relates to government linguistic policy; the second relates to broader community support for the language; and the third relates to its community role. In a study of Hebrew teaching in the United States, he found in relation to government policy, that there was an ambiguous policy towards the teaching of Hebrew, with the official ideology encouraging its expansion, but no clear rationale or practical implementation of policies. In relation to the second point, he found that secularization and assimilation had a negative impact on the importance of Hebrew teaching and learning; and in relation to its community role, he found that Hebrew lacked social prestige and had no practical benefit, impacting on Jewish students’ motivation. These factors correlate with the major factors defined by psychologist Eric Erikson (1950) in terms of identity formation, that is the lack of fidelity seen in the ambiguity towards Hebrew in school policy; the negative ideology seen in the lack of community support; and the fact that Hebrew is not seen as having a practical benefit. Due to the inadequate nature of Hebrew teaching, these factors operate in a negative fashion for Jewish identity. Even though Study 2 was conducted 15 years later and on a different continent, our findings accord with Brosh’s analysis. There was clearly an ambiguous attitude towards Hebrew teaching with cognitive dissonance between what the school leadership regards about the importance of Hebrew and what is happening on the ground. Leon Festinger (Festinger

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

343

et al., 1956), who developed the Theory of Cognitive Dissonance, argued that all individuals aspire to internal consistency between the ideas, opinions, and ideologies they adhere to, and their actual behaviour (Festinger et  al., 1956). In religious societies, contradictions can be generated between the ideologies individuals believe in, and their experienced reality. This is liable to undermine their inner cognitive and emotional worlds, leading to cognitive dissonance. Festinger et al. (1956) maintains that people have a natural tendency to reduce that gap in three ways: (1) admitting to a mistake; (2) changing the meaning of conflicting information through interpretation; and (3) denying and repressing (Festinger et al., 1956). Reactions of the Australian Jewish educational leadership is complex. On the one hand, there is a denial about the pedagogic problems and, on the other hand, there is the problem of projection that the problems are due to the parents who do not value Hebrew, which they do not see as part of their children’s future success. As well, the school structure fails to integrate Hebrew into the overall school curriculum, so that the language does not play a central role within the school, indicating the ambiguity towards language instruction. This impacts on the organizational structure and power allocation within the school (Gross, 2006). The principals again complain that this is due to parental demands, resulting in less emphasis on Hebrew teaching. Within this framework adults play an important role, but with Hebrew teaching and learning, they fail to provide role models, which could encourage appreciation of the importance of language for identity. This failure occurs at four different levels. Firstly, the parents do not value or prioritize Hebrew, partly as a result of their own negative experiences, which in some cases have occurred over the second or even third generation. The second level is poor teaching, which turns students off their Hebrew studies, rather than inspiring and exciting them. The Jewish community has made minimal efforts to improve Hebrew teaching by constructing strong locally based teacher education programs and has not invested in effective research into Hebrew teaching. This is also the case in the United States (Morahg, 1999; Ofek, 1996). Finally, there is the broader Australian environment, with its monolingual culture (Clyne, 2008). The fact that most Australian Jews are native born, well-integrated

344 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

into the Australian culture, means that they are impacted by this monolingual culture which helps to explain these negative attitudes. Our findings mirrored the American experience that Hebrew is not seen as relevant to Jewish life and lacks linguistic capital (Brosh, 1996) and where a discussion of Hebrew policies is “usually a combination of wishful thinking and self-deception” (Morahg, 1999). With the focus on the final matriculation exams (VCE/HSC), where what counts is the score for university entrance, Hebrew is not seen as being of having practical benefits. Schiff (1996) noted that many Jewish schools in the United States had a “hidden agenda” that “Hebrew is all very well but English is what counts” (Schiff, 1996). He pointed out that “SAT’s will get your children into University, but Hebrew will get them into life” (Schachter & Galili-Schachter, 2012). Vygotsky (1978) claims that identity develops through the mediation of signs, which are the core of language, so that language and identity are interrelated. Anderson (1983) adds an additional perspective, stressing language’s capacity for “generating imagined communities, building, in effect, particular solidarities”. Hebrew teaching in Australia fails to convey the importance of Hebrew as “a people’s most powerful means of communal integration and collective expression” (Morahg, 1999). Without this Hebrew core the students’ Jewish identity is undermined because they have no linguistic knowledge base on which to build their Jewish identity, and English translations do not fully convey meaning. Furthermore, this can result in graduates not wishing to have any further involvement with Judaism or the Jewish community and can detract from any prayer services conducted even partially in Hebrew and so impact negatively on their sense of spirituality. As well, spirituality has been found to be a significant contributor to physical health and dealing with anxiety and depression (Miller & Thoresen, 2003; Russo-Netzer & Mayseless, 2017; Van Dierendonck & Mohan, 2006). In our post-modern society, with the increase in student anxiety and depression and youth suicide, creating spiritual bulwarks against these mental health issues has become increasingly more important. While efforts to build students’ values, identity, sense of belonging and spirituality are being recognised within the secular government school curriculum, the importance of religious education and prayer

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

345

should not be underestimated (Crawford & Rossiter, 2006), especially as recent research has demonstrated that prayer and meditation can assist children to develop a sense of calm and security (Chen & Vanderweele, 2018). However, the situation of formal, compulsory prayer in Hebrew at school is more complex. Kohn (2020) argues that studies of prayer in Jewish schools have revealed that a major tension often occurs during prayer time because of the formalistic orientation of these prayer classes, which are obligatory and imposed upon students as a religious requirement. Research has found that formal prayer time can be very challenging (Kohn, 2020; Gross, 2013; Goldmintz, 2017) and sometimes prayer classes are a battlefield in religious schools leading to many discipline problems (Kessler, 2007; Siegel, 2016; Drelich, 2017). This was often the case in our Study 2 of Australian Jewish day schools. In contrast, in Study 1, we found that prayer within the schedule of SRE classes was a time of relaxation. SRE teachers perceive prayer and meditation as precious moments which allow students to connect to the transcendent (Kay, 2005; Scarlett & Perriello, 1991) and as “spiritual practice” (Jacobson-Maisels, 2013). These elements are important for cultivation of the spiritual life of the students (McClure, 1996). It seems that within the SRE framework, students treat prayers differently because of its voluntary framework. Those who choose to participate in SRE also choose to pray. When prayer is not compulsory but encouraged by the teacher, the attitude of the students is more positive and responsive and this “enriches the spirit of the school” (Stern, 2018). Study 1 findings also reinforce the literature that prayer helps to build a sense of friendship and togetherness (De Souza & Watson, 2016). In this way, prayers can contribute to spiritual growth and the cultivation of the students’ inner world, rather than for studying the structure or the history of the prayers (Gross & Rutland, 2014). Spirituality has been found in our research, as in other research, not only as a means to deal with difficult situations, but mainly for student growth and their ability to “thrive” (Mayseless & Russo-Netzer, 2011). In our research we have also found that there is a relationship between spirituality and pro-social behaviour, reinforcing other studies’ findings (King et al., 2011). However, with the centrality and significance of the Hebrew

346 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

language to Jewish prayer, when this is poorly taught it can have a negative impact on Jewish religious identification and spiritualty. With the Australian monolingual culture, where the value of learning an additional language is not appreciated within the broader society, this negative impact is exacerbated.

References Anderson, B. R. (1983). Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism. Verso. Benson, P. L., Scales, P. C., Syvertsen, A. K., & Roehlkepartain, E. C. (2012). Is Youth Spiritual Development Universal Developmental Process? An International Exploration. The Journal of Positive Psychology, 7(6), 453–470. https://doi.org/10.1080/17439760.2012.732102 Brosh, H. (1996). Hebrew Language Diffusion Through Schools and Universities in America. Journal of Jewish Education, 62(3), 13–20. Chen, Y., & Vanderweele, T. J. (2018). Associations of Religious Upbringing with Subsequent Health and Well-Being from Adolescence to Young Adulthood: an Outcome-Wide Analysis. American Journal of Epidemiology, 187(11), 2355–2364. https://doi.org/10.1093/aje/kwy142 Clyne, M. (2008). The Monolingual Mindset as an Impediment to the Development of Plurilingual Potential in Australia. Sociolinguistic Studies, 2(3), 347–366. https://doi.org/10.1558/sols.v2i3.347 Crawford, M., & Rossiter, G. (2006). Reasons for Living: Education and Young People’s Search for Meaning, Identity and Spirituality: A Handbook. ACER Press. De Souza, M., & Watson, J. (2016). Understandings and Applications of Contemporary Spirituality: Analysing the Voices. In M. de Souza, J. Bone, & J.  Watson (Eds.), Spirituality Across Disciplines: Research and Practice (pp. 331–347). Springer International Publishing. Drelich, M. (2017). Creating a Meaningful Tefilla Experience Through the Lens of Adolescent Development. Jewish Educational Leadership, 16, 9–13. Erikson, E. (1950). Childhood and Society. W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. Festinger, L., Riecken, H., & Schachter, S. (1956). When Prophecy Fails: A Social and Psychological Study of a Modern Group that Predicted the Destruction of the World. University of Minnesota Press. Fishman, J. A. (2001). 300-Plus Years of Heritage Language Education in the United States. In J. K. Peyton, D. A. Ranard, & S. McGinnis (Eds.), Heritage

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

347

Languages in America: Preserving a National Resource (pp. 81–89). Center for Applied Linguistics. Frankl, V. E. (1985). Man’s Search for Meaning. Washington Square. Gardner, R.  C. (2007). Motivation and Second Language Acquisition. Porta Linguarum, 8, 9–20. Retrieved from https://www.ugr.es/~portalin/articulos/ PL_numero8/1-­R%20C%20%20GADNER.pdf Goldmintz, J. (2017). On Becoming a Tefillah Educator. Jewish Educational Leadership, 16, 4–8. Gross, Z. (2006). Power, Identity, and Organizational Structure as Reflected in Schools for Minority Groups: A Case Study of Jewish Schools in Paris, Brussels, and Geneva. Comparative Education Review, 50(4), 603–624. Gross, Z. (2013). The Role of Silencing Among Religious Girls in Jewish, Christian-Arab, Muslim and Bedouin Schools in Israel. In Z.  Gross, L.  Davies, & A.  Diab (Eds.), Gender, Religion and Education in a Chaotic Postmodern World (pp. 93–110). Springer. Gross, Z., & Rutland, S. D. (2014). The Chicken and the Egg: Connections between Hebrew Language Teaching, Curriculum and Identity in Jewish Day Schools in Australia. Curriculum and Teaching, 29(1), 53–70. Gross, Z., & Rutland, S. D. (2020). The Impact of Context on Attitudes Toward Heritage Languages: A Case Study of Jewish Schools in the Asia-Pacific Region. Journal of Jewish Education, 86(3), 241–270. https://doi.org/10.108 0/15244113.2020.176488 Gross, Z., & Rutland, S. D. (2021). Special Religious Education in Australia and its Value to Contemporary Society. Springer International Publishing. Jacobson-Maisels, J. (2013). A Vision of Tefillah Education. HaYidion, Spring. Kay, W. (2005). Religious Experience and Its Implications for Religious Education. In L.  J. Francis, M.  Robbins, & J.  Astley (Eds.), Religion, Education and Adolescence: International and Empirical Perspectives (pp. 107–125). University of Wales Press. Kessler, R. (2007). Inviting the Soul into the Classroom. Jewish Educational Leadership, 5(2), 18–29. King, P. E., Carr, D., & Boitor, C. (2011). Religion, Spirituality, Positive Youth Development and Thriving. Advances in Child Development and Behavior, 41, 161–195. https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-­0-­12-­386492-­5.00007-­5 Kohn, E. (2020). Prayer Services in Jewish Religious High Schools for Girls in Israel: Teachers’ Perspectives. Journal of Religious Education, 68(1), 43–58. Mayseless, O., & Russo-Netzer, P. (2011). The Interplay of Self-Transcendence and Psychological Maturity Among Israeli College Students. In A. E. Warren, R.  M. Lerner, & E.  Phelps (Eds.), Thriving and Spirituality Among Youth: Research Perspectives and Future Possibilities (pp. 289–307). Wiley.

348 

Z. Gross and S. D. Rutland

McClure, M. (1996). How Children’s Faith Develops. The Way – Supplement: The Spirituality of Children, 36, 5–13. Miller, W. R., & Thoresen, C. E. (2003). Spirituality, Religion, and Health: An Emerging Research Field. American Psychology, 58(1), 24–35. https://doi. org/10.1037/0003-­066X.58.1.24 Morahg, G. (1999). Hebrew: A Language of Identity. Journal of Jewish Education, 65(3), 9–16. Myhill, J. (2004). Languages in Jewish Society: Towards a New Understanding. Multilingual Matters. Nielsen, T. W. (2010). Towards Pedagogy of Giving for Wellbeing and Social Engagement. In T. Lovat, R. Toomey, & N. Clement (Eds.), International Research Handbook on Values Education and Student Wellbeing (pp. 617–630). Springer. Ofek, A. (1996). The Making of a Hebrew Teacher: Preparing Hebrew Language Teachers for Jewish Day Schools. Journal of Jewish Education, 62(3), 21–28. Ofner, H.  E., & Tannenbaum, M. (2012). ‘Emor li ma ata dover ve’omar leck…’: Heker emdot klapey safot ba’hevrah ha’haredit [‘Tell Me What You Speak and I’ll Tell You …’: Exploring Attitudes to Languages in the Ultra-­ Orthodox Community in Israel]. In K.  Caplan & N.  Stadler (Eds.), Me’hisardut le’hitbasesut: Tmurot ba’hevrah ha’haredit be’Israel u’be’hekrah [From Survival to Consolidation: Changes in Israeli Haredi Society and Its Scholarly Study] (pp.  81–100). The Van Leer Jerusalem Institute and Hakibbutz Hame’uhad. Omoniyi, T., & Fishman, J. A. (2006). Exploration in the Sociology of Language and Religion. John Benjamins. Pargament, K. (2007). Spiritually Integrated Psychotherapy: Understanding and Addressing the Sacred. Guilford Press. Pargament, K. I. (2013). Spirituality as an Irreducible Human Motivation and Process. International Journal for the Psychology of Religion, 23(4), 271–281. https://doi.org/10.1080/10508619.2013.795815 Park, C. L., Currier, J. M., Harris, J. I., & Slattery, J. M. (2017). The Intersection of Religion/Spirituality and Trauma. In: Trauma, Meaning, and Spirituality: Translating Research into Clinical Practice. American Psychological Association. https://www.amazon.com/Trauma-­Meaning-­Spirituality-­Translating-­ Research/dp/143382325X Penuel, W. R., & Wertsch, J. V. (1995). Vygotsky and Identity Formation: A Sociocultural Approach. Educational Psychologist, 30(2), 83–92. https://doi. org/10.1207/s15326985ep3002_5; page 85.

14  The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality 

349

Rossiter, G. (2011). Historical Perspective on Spiritual Education in Australian Schools. Part II: A Personal Development Basis. Journal of Christian Education, 54(3), 15–27. Russo-Netzer, P., & Mayseless, O. (2017). Spiritual Change Outside Institutional Religion as Inner Work on the Self: Deep Within and Beyond. Journal of Adult Development, 24(1), 1–14. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10804-­016-­9241-­x Safran, W. (2005). Language and Nation-Building in Israel: Hebrew and Its Rivals. Nations and Nationalism, 11(1), 43–63. Scarlett, W.  G., & Perriello, L. (1991). The Development of Prayer in Adolescence. New Directions in Child Development, 52, 63–76. Schachter, E., & Galili-Schachter, I. (2012). Identity Literacy: Reading and Teaching Texts as Resources for Identity Formation. Teachers College Record, 114(5), 1–37. Schiff, A. (1996). How Crucial Is Hebrew for Jewish Continuity and the Effectiveness of Jewish Education? Journal of Jewish Education, 62(3), 5–12. Siegel, P. (2016). Prayer and Adolescence: Can Formal Instruction Make a Difference? Religious Education, 111(2), 200–221. Spolsky, B. (1986). Teaching Hebrew in the Diaspora: Rationales and Goals. Jewish Education, 54, 11–20. Stern, J. (2018). Teaching Religious Education. Bloomsbury. Strauss, A., & Corbin, J. M. (1997). Grounded Theory in Practice. Sage. Valdivia, S., McLoughlin, D., & Mynard, J. (2011). The Importance of Affective Factors in Self-Access Language Learning Courses. Studies in Self-Access Learning Journal, 2(2), 91–96. Van Dierendonck, D., & Mohan, K. (2006). Some thoughts on Spirituality and Eudaimonic Well Being. Mental Health, Religion and Culture, 9(3), 227–238. Vygotsky, L. S. (1978). Mind in Society: The Development of Higher Psychological Processes (p. 133). Harvard University Press. Wieseltier, L. (2011). Language, Identity and the Scandal of American Jewry. Journal of Jewish Communal Service, 86(1/2), 14–22. Zisenwine, D. (1997). Insights from Practice Teaching Hebrew: A Suggestion for Hebrew Educators. Religious Education, 92(1), 54–60. https://doi. org/10.1080/0034408970920105

15 The Impact of Learning Language and Culture on Adolescents’ Identity Formation, Enculturation and Socialisation: A Case Study of a Pluralistic Faith-Based School Yona Gilead

Introduction This chapter explores the distinct experience and attitudes of students’ learning of Jewish faith-based studies (henceforth Judaic studies), their engagement with Israel, and studying Modern Hebrew in an Australian pluralistic Jewish day school (henceforth, School). I provide an analysis of students’ perceptions regarding the importance of their Judaic and Israel studies compared with their Hebrew studies, as well as the impact on and contribution to their identity formation, enculturation and socialisation into ‘Jewish peoplehood’. A term coined by Mordecai Kaplan that views Jewish identity as Jews belonging and connecting with each other (Kaplan, 1967) [p. 178]:

Y. Gilead (*) University of Sydney, Sydney, NSW, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_15

351

352 

Y. Gilead

Judaism … is thus something far more comprehensive than Jewish religion. It includes that nexus of a history, literature, language, social organization, folk sanctions, standards of conduct, social and spiritual ideals, esthetic [sic] values, which in their totality form a civilization.

The findings from this study suggest that, in the majority, students perceive Jewish identity education, enculturation and socialisation (namely, learning about Jewish history, Judaism with its spiritual components, the Holocaust, as well as engagement with Israel) as important to their personal ethnic-cultural identity development. Yet, as they transition from primary to secondary school, they view the study of Modern Hebrew as being far less significant. I begin with a theoretical overview of current concepts of the role identity education, enculturation and socialisation play in Jewish education. These understandings are relevant to the contextualisation of this chapter. Next, I present succinct background information on the School at the centre of this research. I explain the research methodology, present the findings, and discuss their significance. The chapter ends with a conclusion and some recommendations.

 heoretical Framework: Schools’ Role T in Shaping Students’ Identity and Socialisation In his Pedagogic Creed, written in 1897, John Dewey posits that the major purpose of education and schools is to socialise children, bring them to share in the historical and cultural traditions, customs and resources of their community, and empower them to become active participants in the social life surrounding them. I believe that the school is primarily a social institution. Education being a social process, the school is simply that form of community life in which all those agencies are concentrated that will be most effective in bringing the child to share in the inherited resources of the race, and to use his own powers for social ends. (Dewey, 1897) [Article II]

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

353

Dewey’s creed, written more than 120 years ago, remains pertinent to the place of current education and schooling in responding to the multiple challenges that school-age students face. Thus, in addition to schooling’s main mission of providing high-level academic education, the role of schools is to support the home and other social environments in shaping young adults’ identity, enculturation and socialisation into their community. Hence, as Dewey posited, it is not ‘science, nor literature, nor history, not geography’ or other academic subjects that are at the centre of education, but ‘participation of the individual in the social consciousness’. This educational philosophy is at the core of faith-based schools’ educational mission. Namely, beyond providing high-level secular academic education, faith-based schools’ mission is to socialise students into the wider framework of their local and broader communities. Turning to the topic at the centre of this chapter, the raison-d’etre of Jewish education, both in Australia and abroad, is to ensure the future survival of the Jewish people by strengthening young people’s Jewish identity and thus enculturating and socializing them into the wider framework of ‘Jewish peoplehood’(see for example (Ben-Moshe & Mittelberg, 2012; Gross & Rutland, 2014a, 2014b, 2021; Markus et al., 2020; Mittelberg, 2013; Zisenwine, 1997)). Moreover, as Ezrachi posits (Ezrachi, 2012) [p. 207]: Jewish education entails socialization at many levels. Socialization is the process by which individuals learn values, attitudes, and behaviors that later become part of their personality… Jewish education in its broadest sense is, therefore, a mechanism for teaching and socializing the next generation to become Jews in the context of their local community. Jewish identity education asks questions that stem from the fundamentals of the narrative of the specific community.

Yet, the question that remains, for each school-community, is how to contribute to students’ Jewish identity formation and how to enculturate and socialise them into becoming functioning members of Jewish peoplehood? Namely, which ‘values, attitudes, and behaviours’, as well as traditions, practices, customs, and knowledge, should schools and educators embrace in their enculturation and socialisation endeavours and

354 

Y. Gilead

which subjects should they include in their educational offerings? As well, how important and what role does the Hebrew language play in this process of enculturation? This question incorporates the challenging issue of whether to teach Hebrew and if so which form of Hebrew should be taught: Classical, Rabbinic and/or Modern Hebrew? This chapter is part of a wider study into the impact of the School’s mission on students’ identity formation and socialisation (Gilead, 2020). It analyses the degree of importance, or lack thereof, which students ascribe to learning Hebrew as compared with their other Judaic/Israel studies, and the emotional impact they attach to the acquisition of these topics. These two factors – the significance and the affective criteria – are the focus of this chapter.

Background: The School The School at the centre of this study is a Pre-school to Year 12 co-­ educational pluralistic Jewish day school, whereby pluralism refers to a diverse array of Jewish socio-cultural backgrounds (Conyer, 2011). In addition to excellence in teaching and learning and empowering students’ individual potential, the School’s educational mission is underpinned by a commitment to accept and nurture a diverse pluralistic, both secular and religious, Jewish ethnic identity, rather than a ‘religious’ identity, which in Jewish discourse refers to Jewish Orthodox religiosity. This is evident from the wording in the School’s mission statement (School’s Website, 2018a): Life at [School] is rich in Jewish tradition. As a Community Jewish Day school we welcome and teach all streams of Judaism, diverse Jewish cultural customs and synagogue traditions, while retaining our commitment to egalitarianism and pluralism.

Thus, a pluralistic Jewish identity encompasses ‘Jewish traditions’, and ‘diverse Jewish cultural customs and synagogue traditions’ which include the spiritual elements of Judaism. As well, and whilst embracing social universal principles and engagement with varied groups in the Australian

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

355

and global societies, the School is committed to supporting Israel (School’s Website, 2018b): [Students are] encouraged to embrace the whole Jewish community, regardless of affiliation and practice … engage in authentic and positive encounters with Judaism, the Jewish people and Israel.

With regards to the teaching and learning of Modern Hebrew, in Years K-6 the emphasis is on the ‘Culture of Hebrew’, and in Years 7–12 the emphasis is on ‘Communicating in Hebrew: Our aim is to instil passion and love of Hebrew as a living language through its connection to Israel and the Jewish people: past, present and future. (School mission)

The School’s motto ‘Mind’ (‫לבבך‬, literally your heart), ‘Spirit’ (‫נפשך‬, literally your soul), ‘Being’ (‫מאדך‬, literally your means/essence), is taken directly from one of the central commandments of Jewish daily life, the Shema prayer, which in itself comes from the Biblical book of Deuteronomy (6:5). This prayer encapsulates the integration in Judaism between spirituality, religion and practices, implying both the affective and cognitive elements. Hence the School, which seeks to promote the pluralistic expressions of Judaism to a diversified student body and contextualize universal-humanistic qualities within a Jewish framework, draws on this basic Jewish text and incorporates the Hebrew language into its motto. ‘Mind’ challenges both students and teachers (School Website, 2021): Within our Jewish Studies classes, which are compulsory from Years 7-11, we challenge our students to explore and discover Judaism as a living dialogue in which each individual has a voice…students are encouraged to develop both an appreciation of the wisdom of our tradition and a critical and authentic understanding of how it may help them forge a mindful and meaningful Jewish life… encounter their Hebrew studies as a means to engage more fully with their Jewish heritage and present day Israel. They experience Hebrew as the shared language of our people and as a core component of their Jewish identity.

356 

Y. Gilead

‘Spirit’ pertains to the Friday morning student led Kabbalat Shabbat (welcoming of the Sabbath) with singing Hebrew songs and dancing to popular Israeli music, as well as Monday morning time of ‘prayer, reflection and study’. Lastly, ‘Being’ refers to celebrations and commemorations, and Tikkun Olam (literally, repairing the world) activities that ‘give living expression to our Jewish being…within local, national and world-­ wide communities’. Moreover, as part of its educational endeavours, the School seeks to impart graduates with love and knowledge of the traditions and customs of ‘all streams of Judaism’, Israel and Hebrew, as well as to socialise students into their community, both Jewish and general. The School incorporates experiential education in informal settings, including Zionist camps, an Israel study tour at the end of Year 10, and tours to Australia’s Northern Territory and to East Timor. While the School draws on Classical Hebrew concepts in its motto, incorporates Hebrew into all its celebrations and commemorations, its Friday school assembly (Kabbalat Shabbat – a very spiritual experience), Monday morning prayers (Tefilla), as well as signage throughout the School, it has decided to focus on Modern Hebrew, and only make it compulsory until the end of Year 7.

Methodology In this study I utilised a mixed-method approach integrating qualitative and quantitative data collection methods. These include an anonymous online questionnaire which set out to explore the importance, or lack of, the students attribute to: (i) the School’s offering of Judaic/Israel/Hebrew studies, (ii) what being Jewish means to them, as well as (iii) a range of Jewish traditions, festivals and customs, and (iv) what being Australian and global citizens mean for them. The online questionnaire surveyed students in Years 5–12 (N = 359; Y5 = 66; Y6 = 56; Y7 = 42; Y8 = 64; Y9  =  52; Y10  =  61; Y11  =  12; Y12  =  4). As well, I conducted semi-­ structured open-ended focus-group interviews with students in Year 5 (N = 9) and Year 11 (N = 22), respectively (Gilead, 2020). Utilising this mixed-method research approach provided ‘access to the meaning people attribute to their life experience and social worlds’ (Miller & Glassner,

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

357

2004). This methodology delivered first-hand information, and research-­ based knowledge of the students’ perceptions and experience of the teaching and learning of Judaic studies, learning about, and engaging with Israel, and particularly their learning Modern Hebrew.

Findings In presenting and analysing the findings I first consider students’ attitudes towards their Judaic studies and their engagement with Israel. I then discuss their attitudes towards studying the more specific field of Modern Hebrew. The analysis of the findings draws on the data from both the anonymous online questionnaire and students’ focus-group interviews.

Judaic Studies As stated above, 359 students from Years 5 to12 completed the online questionnaire, which explored their views of the School’s mission statements (School’s Website, 2018b): ... we seek to foster a love of Jewish learning and living; ... engage in authentic and positive encounters with Judaism, the Jewish people and Israel.

Table 15.1 presents students’ responses to the five identity elements of learning Judaic studies and engagement with Israel. When combining the percentage of the ‘very important’ and ‘fairly important’ categories into an overall ‘importance’ category for all responses (N  =  359) the figures are as follow: ‘Learning about Judaism’—79.4 percent; ‘Learning about Jewish history’—76.2 percent; ‘Keeping the memory of the Holocaust alive’—90.5 percent; ‘Connecting with Israel’—68.7 percent; and ‘Visiting Israel’—73.8 percent. These figures reveal that, overall, students perceived these five elements of ‘Jewish learning and living’ as being more important than not.

358 

Y. Gilead

Table 15.1  A detailed distribution into Year-groups of accumulative ‘important’ category to the five topics of ‘Jewish learning and living’ and engagement with Israel

Learning about Year Responses Judaism

5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

66 56 42 64 52 61 12 4

Learning about Jewish History

Keeping the memory of the Holocaust Connecting Visiting alive with Israel Israel

‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly important’ important’ important’ important’ important’ 80.3 80.3 87.9 66.7 57.0 80.3 78.6 89.3 71.5 78.6 90.5 76.9 95.2 73.8 76.2 81.3 71.9 90.7 70.4 76.5 80.8 82.7 93.3 68.2 82.7 70.5 70.5 88.5 65.6 78.7 58.4 66.7 91.7 41.7 50.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0

I turn now to analyse the focus group students’ responses regarding their experience of learning this range of Jewish/Israel studies. In distinction to the overall perception of the importance of ‘Jewish learning and living’ topics, both the Year 5 and Year 11 students presented a range of opinions regarding their experience of studying these topics. These views ranged from considerable satisfaction and enjoyment to dissatisfaction. On the side of satisfaction and enjoyment, some of the Year 5 students testified as follows: ‘I feel really excited to go into Jewish studies and the, I sometimes feel um, really happy when we talk about um, some of the stories in, the Tanach that I want to know’ (CC007); ‘I really enjoy Jewish studies because in a way it’s helping me find out who I am because I’m a Jewish person, so learning more about the Jewish history and what it means to be Jewish really like, blends who I am, and like, gives me an idea of what I should act on and who I should be and what I should work towards’ (Blue Jay); ‘Jewish studies I find it fun. Other people [in my class] don’t get how I find it fun’ (Puppy Lover); ‘I don’t think everything’s so fun but like, I like Jewish studies because like, you get to learn new things … about Israel’ (Roma).

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

359

The Year 11 students also expressed their enjoyment of, and satisfaction with their Judaic studies topics: ‘I also think it is exceptional because especially… understanding different sides of Judaism, different streams and the diversity…I’ve enjoyed it’ (Apple); ‘I did a project on it [abortion in Judaism] and I found that really interesting’ (Allegra); ‘Jewish studies, yes. Amazing, how to open my mind up to many different opinions and um, values of Judaism and um, not even religious stuff like, political stuff that face Jews and yeah, so definitely I feel like it’s just made me so much more educated’ (Liron). On the other hand, both cohorts of students also expressed dissatisfaction with their experience of Judaic studies. Thus, the Year 5 students stated: ‘I don’t really enjoy Jewish studies that much because sometimes it’s not that interactive…it could be because there’s so much potential to learn about Judaism’ (Hermione Granger); ‘I don’t really enjoy that much’ (Jimmy); ‘Jewish studies is kind of boring but it could be good like if we combined it with other studies that we enjoy… instead of just learning the same thing over and over again’ (Ran Ran). Among the Year 11 students there were also some negative comments about their experience of Judaic studies: ‘the way in which they conduct their Jewish studies it’s, I believe…they’re trying to teach you more about anti-Semitism and anti this and anti that and anti-Israel and how Jews have always been persecuted and it’s our history… instead of what beautiful traditions have allowed us to continue over time’ (Leon); ‘I found interest in some things that we did but most of the time I felt like I was just forced to sit there and listen and I just like, I didn’t really enjoy it’ (Mia). Moreover, some of the Year 11 students commented that as they matured they gradually understood the impact and relevance of Judaic studies to their life: ‘as you get older it becomes more relevant and you actually talk about topical issues … Israel … Jewish community in Australia rather than what happened in the Torah 3000 years ago… I think that’s done really well’ (Isabella); ‘I’d say that over the years they advance the topics in a way that it gets … more like personal and reflecting on your own identity and culture’ (Matthew); and from Hanna:

360 

Y. Gilead

when I was younger… primary school to like, year 8…I completely rejected all like, Jewish religion and culture and traditions and stuff. Like, it had no relevance to me whatsoever… but once we got older … and we started having these discussions and I was able to be, like, critical … I mean I still don’t think despite the like, religion of the school and everything that it’s taught me, I don’t think once I leave the school I’ll continue Jewish traditions or raise my kids to be particularly Jewish... But it’s definitely impacted me and I’d say that changed from like…what I would call like the boring Jewish prayers to, to like, contemporary issues that are relevant.

Thus, both the Year 5 and the Year 11 students emphasise their spiritual, namely, their affective and cognitive experience of engaging with topics of ‘Jewish learning and living’ rather than experiencing the religious aspect of Judaism. Moreover, most Year 11 students found this engagement becoming more meaningful as they matured. Yet, as discussed below, the Hebrew language was not incorporated into this process.

Engagement with Israel Students’ views of their engagement with Israel is discussed at length in Gilead (2020). Here I shall only provide a summary of the analysis. Firstly, students perceived the elements ‘Connecting with Israel’ and ‘Visiting Israel’ (Table 15.1) as more important than not. Yet, on average, they rated those two elements as less important than the Judaic studies topics. The interviewed Year 11 students clearly differentiated between their formal and informal educational experience of engaging with Israel, its people and culture. Of the classroom-based academic learning some students opined that the School only presents the positive sides of Israel, while others stated that only negative elements are discussed. These views suggest that the teaching and learning (certainly by the time students reach Year 10 and above) presents Israel’s complex and multi-layered historical, political, religious, and social situation. In contrast, the majority of the interviewed Year 11 students considered Havaya (literally, positive experience), the six-week Israel study tour at the end of Year 10, as the

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

361

most powerful School organized experience they had. As well, several mentioned how important and enjoyable was Ruach for them. Utilising this Hebrew word ‫( רוח‬which literally means ‘spirit’ and expresses an uplifting and possibly spiritual experience) to refer to the spiritual and affective feeling engulfing them whilst ‘basically dancing to Hebrew songs with moves that we made up’ (Citrus): ‘every Friday morning Shabbat, I suppose builds or consolidates, makes you have fun with these Jewish traditions… Ruach, so Israeli dancing… that energy kind of passes through me, it gets me buzzing in a sense and that inevitably shapes my identity sometimes’ (Apple); ‘Friday morning at Shabbat and like, watching, like, them dance and do Ruach and everything that was like so powerful for me to be around people who like, understood Hebrew and spoke language that I knew and ah, said the same prayers that I had said with my family. It was like really, really powerful’ (Olivia). Once again, we note that the students found the affective experience of their informal engagement with Israel and Israeli culture more impactful than their formal classroom learning about Israel. The students highlight their emotional-spiritual and ethnic-cultural engagement with Israel and Israeli-Hebrew culture, rather than through their engagement with formal Jewish religious practices. Moreover, it is noteworthy that Hebrew terminology such as Ruach (spirit) is purposefully integrated into both the formal and informal School curriculum, indicating that both the students and the staff see Hebrew as an important constituent of the School’s educational mission.

Modern Hebrew As stated above, the instruction of Modern Hebrew forms part of the School’s educational mission at all year-levels (School’s Website, 2018b): [a] whole-language approach uses an all-Hebrew environment… Each activity strengthens students’ speaking, writing, listening and reading skills, while integrating Jewish concepts. [Hebrew in Years 7-12] encourages students to think and communicate in Hebrew. Students are exposed to diverse Hebrew genres… all in Hebrew.

362 

Y. Gilead

At the end of Year 7 Hebrew stops being compulsory, with students able to choose between continuing with Hebrew or commencing French in Year 8, and in Year 9 Hebrew becomes an elective subject. Thus, as the requirement for all students to study Modern Hebrew concludes, their views of studying the language changes. As stated earlier, 359 students from Years 5 to12 completed the online questionnaire. With regards to the School’s stated mission: to ‘instil passion and love of Hebrew as a living language’ (School’s Website, 2018b), the Years 5–12 students’ responses to the online questionnaire reveal that they viewed studying the language as being significantly less important than studying either Judaic or Israel topics. A more careful analysis of the percentages of the responses per the different Year-group cohorts, reveals that once Hebrew ceases to be a compulsory subject (at the end of Year 7) there is a clear decline in students’ perceptions of the importance of studying it: Moreover, these figures contrast with students’ perceptions of the importance of engaging with the five Judaic and Israel topics (Table 15.1), as well as the level of ‘importance’ students ascribe to a further three identity elements: 80.7 percent indicated that Being a Jew is important; 74.6 percent indicated that Maintaining my Judaism is important; and, 65 percent indicated that Practicing Judaism is important (Table 15.3). Thus, in contrast to the overall ‘very/fairly important’ category students attached to the three Jewish ethnicity elements: ‘Being a Jew – 80.7 percent; Maintaining Judaism – 74.6 percent; Practicing Judaism – 65 percent, and the five Judaic and Israel topics (p. 7), only 46.6 percent of the students in Years 5-12 viewed ‘Learning Modern Hebrew’ as being important. These figures show that students attached considerably less significance to studying the language than to studying a range of Judaic studies topics (including Holocaust and engagement with Israel, respectively), and to their attachment to Judaism. Turning to consider the focus-group students’ comments regarding their experience of learning Modern Hebrew, the opinions of both student cohorts  – respectively the Year 5 and Year 11 students  – differed considerably. Thus, the perceptions of the interviewed Year 5 students are in the main supported by the data emerging from the online questionnaire (Table 15.3). These Year 5 students presented very positive views of

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

363

Modern Hebrew. Notable is their frequent use of affective terminology: ‘And Hebrew um, I really enjoy it because although it’s not, doesn’t have as strong as a relation as Jewish studies, I enjoy learning a new language that is native to the Jewish community so I really enjoy’ (Blue Jay); ‘I feel really excited when I do Hebrew because we were doing really fun activities and um, and most of my classmates would agree with me’ (Gerd); ‘I also like Hebrew because we get to learn new language so you get to learn more things and… if you do go to Israel you can talk to some people there, not everyone in Israel knows English’ (Roma); ‘I like Hebrew because well, we do fun things and actually we also get fun homework … we were learning words that had to do with like, cooking, and baking, so we had to make our own cooking show and I found that really fun to make’ (Puppy Lover); Hebrew’s fun. I like my teacher’ (Hermione Granger); ‘Hebrew I think it’s very fun because I like my teacher Mr X, he’s good, it’s fun with Mr X…first we do our [compulsory] book but… then we go onto fun activities which Mr X organizes’ (Jimmy); ‘Hebrew is good. Like we do quizzes and Kahoots’ (Ran Ran). Finally, one student cited Hebrew as the most memorable experience she had at School: ‘Probably the most memorable moment for me at school it was the very first day at school… when the Hebrew teacher came in, Morah [teacher] X, she taught what it is like being Jewish and she taught us in a very simple way’ (Hermione Granger). Thus, the Year 5’s comments clearly point to the fact that the main reasons they like studying Hebrew is because the ‘fun’ feeling they associate with learning the language and fondness for their Hebrew teachers. As the online questionnaire clearly demonstrates (Table  15.2) once Hebrew ceases to be a compulsory subject and as students progress through the school years, they attribute less importance to learning the language. The more in-depth responses provided by the interviewed Year 11 students provide some insights into this decline. Importantly, a considerable difference in opinions emerged between those who choose to continue studying Hebrew and those who ceased. The students who continue with their studies of Hebrew into Years 11 and 12 found it greatly enjoyable and spiritually powerful: ‘In Year 9 I took it as an elective and I love it …now it’s probably one of my favourite subjects… it’s almost like a bit of a break… speaking in another language with like other

364 

Y. Gilead

Table 15.2  Responses per Year-groups to the element ‘Learning Modern Hebrew’ Year group

Very Responses important

Fairly important

Not important

Not sure

5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

66 56 42 64 52 61 12 4

36.4 30.4 35.7 28.1 32.7 19.7 16.7 0.0

30.3 33.9 40.5 56.3 53.8 63.9 66.7 25.0

7.6 3.6 2.4 6.3 5.8 8.2 8.3 25.0

25.8 32.1 21.4 9.4 7.7 8.2 8.3 50.0

people in your class … it’s just quite amazing’ (Olivia). Notably, it is Olivia who also found the experience of sharing the Hebrew prayer with her family spiritually powerful (p. 10). Another student was highly appreciative of his Hebrew teacher: ‘I’m doing Hebrew for the HSC [matriculation]… [and] kudos to actually Morah X, she’s an amazing Hebrew teacher’ (Leon). On the other hand, students who decided to cease studying Hebrew by the end of Year 7 or Year 8, stated the following reasons: ‘I don’t think the Hebrew level is very good at our school’ (Rachel); ‘I didn’t connect to Judaism through Hebrew, so it wasn’t worth for me continuing’ (Allegra); ‘I don’t think Hebrew makes up our Judaism, major aspect of Judaism, like I can practice it without having to speak Hebrew (Craig); ‘I just was struggling, I found it quite hard, I wish I could speak it, I mean, I feel like it would deepen my connection to Israel’ (Mia); ‘I didn’t understand a word of Hebrew and like that was causing extra stress and that made me hate the subject … but other than that I actually really, really like the Hebrew language and I wish I knew it’ (Lani); ‘When I was in year 8 we, we weren’t really officially allowed to talk English in the class. Obviously in year 8 that would be quite hard for people who weren’t fluent’ (Apple); ‘I enjoyed learning it for the two years that I learnt it, but I don’t think it should be compulsory in our school. I think it should be an option’ (Isabella). As can be seen, some students (Allegra, Craig) did not see a connection between the Hebrew language and their Jewish identity whether this is

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

365

from a religious or a spiritual perspective. Other students clearly differentiated between their view of the language and studying it as a school subject (Mia, Lani, Apple), as well as expressed their desire to have an option to continue learning Hebrew: ‘even when I dropped it I just wanted to keep speaking… because it is such a beautiful language I would want to…learn more Hebrew despite not having the opportunity to progress’ (Apple); ‘I do wish there was some sort of option where you could learn just Modern Hebrew sort of, like just what you would need… you could go to Israel by yourself ’ (Lani); ‘I’m very upset I didn’t do it for my HSC, especially because my dad went to the [Israeli] army and he speaks fluent Hebrew so [but I] never really spoke at home. Um, Ivrit is, I really want to learn it when I finish school. I think it’s a central part to going to Israel and feeling a more of a connection’ (Liron).

Discussion To reiterate the argument posed earlier, the raison-d’etre of Jewish education, both in Australia and abroad, is to ensure the future survival of the Jewish people by strengthening young people’s Jewish faith’s ethnic-­ cultural as well as their religious and spiritual identity and thus enculturating and socializing them into the wider framework of Jewish peoplehood. With regards to a pluralistic Jewish day school, the big challenge is to find ways of implementing educational programs, both formal and informal, that incorporate knowledge and appreciation of Judaism’s historical and cultural heritage not as part of the faith’s religious practices but rather its spiritual and ethical dimensions. Thus, the first important finding of this study pertains to the School’s educational mission of ‘engage[ing] in authentic and positive encounters with Judaism, the Jewish people and Israel’ (School’s Website, 2018b). There is an overall correlation between the quantitative (Tables 15.1 and 15.3) and qualitative datasets regarding students’ attitudes to the importance, or lack thereof, that they ascribe to learning the range of Judaic studies and engagement with Israel, as well as the emotional impact, either positive or negative, that they attached to their engagement with these topics. One unexpected finding to emerge from the quantitative

5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

66 56 42 64 52 61 12 4

Learning about Jewish History

‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly important’ important’ 66.7 57.0 71.5 78.6 73.8 76.2 70.4 76.5 68.2 82.7 65.6 78.7 41.7 50.0 100.0 100.0

Keeping the memory of the Holocaust Connecting Visiting alive with Israel Israel

‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly ‘very / ‘fairly important’ important’ important’ important’ important’ important’ 77.2 74.2 62.1 80.3 80.3 87.9 80.3 71.5 66.1 80.3 78.6 89.3 80.9 83.3 73.8 90.5 76.9 95.2 85.9 79.9 71.9 81.3 71.9 90.7 80.8 82.7 93.3 84.6 78.8 61.6 80.3 65.6 59.1 70.5 70.5 88.5 58.3 58.3 50.0 58.4 66.7 91.7 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0

Res Maintaining Practicing Year ponses Being a Jew Judaism Judaism

Learning about Judaism

‘very / ‘fairly important’ 62.0 62.5 57.1 37.5 40.4 27.9 25.0 50.0

Learning Hebrew

Table 15.3  A detailed distribution into Year-groups of accumulative ‘important’ category to the nine identity elements of Jewish peoplehood

366  Y. Gilead

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

367

dataset, which was not raised as a significant factor in students’ interviews; nor is it centrally referred to in the School’s mission statement, is the importance of Holocaust memory. As gleaned from the online questionnaire, of all the Judaic/Israel topics, students attached the highest overall ‘important’ category to the element ‘Keeping the memory of the Holocaust alive’ (90.5 percent; Table  15.3). This finding, which closely parallels the findings from ‘Gen 17′, the 2017 Australian Jewish community survey (Markus et  al., 2020), points to the fact that learning about and remembering the Holocaust is important to the students. The qualitative datasets presented a more nuanced picture of students’ perceptions. In the focus-group interviews, the Year 11 students indicated that as they matured, they gained a greater understanding of the relevance of Judaic studies to their life. Thus, one student stated that once the classroom discussions centred on contemporary issues, Judaism became more relevant (Hanna); and another commented on the power of sharing the Hebrew prayers with her family (Olivia). With regards to engagement with Israel, the Year 11 students considered Havaya, the six-week Israel study tour at the end of Year 10, as the most powerful school organized experience they had. This finding matches with studies carried out in Australia (Ben-Moshe & Mittelberg, 2012; Gross & Rutland, 2015) and in North America (Pomson & Deitcher, 2010; Pomson et  al., 2014), which report that students rate Israel study-tours as being the most rewarding engagement with Israel and as having a significant impact on their ethnic-cultural, and for some students religious, Jewish identity formation. The second important, yet complex, finding of this study pertains to the question of how fundamental knowledge of the Hebrew language is to Jewish identity formation and socialisation into Jewish peoplehood. The long-held traditional view is that the knowledge of Hebrew – Classical and/or Modern – is an essential and a fundamental component of Jewish identity education (Zisenwine, 1997; Brosh, 2010; Mintz, 1993; Morahg, 2006; Schiff, 1996). On the other-hand recent scholars (Ezrachi, 2012; Avni, 2011) have questioned the centrality of Modern Hebrew in non-­ religious Jewish identity education. They argue that today it is English, rather than Hebrew, that ‘is the language of Jewish universal discourse’ (Ezrachi, 2012). This means that most liturgical texts, religious practices

368 

Y. Gilead

and/or cultural customs can be performed without the knowledge of Hebrew. This is particularly pertinent for Jewish day schools that are located in a multicultural, yet an English-language dominant, country such as Australia, where the knowledge of languages other than English (plurilingualism) is often considered to be less important (Clyne, 2008). Specific to Australian Jewish day schools, Hebrew is compulsory at the primary level but ceases to be compulsory in Year 7 or later, a predicament that contributes to a further undervaluing of the study of the language (Gross & Rutland, 2014a, 2015; Markus et al., 2020). Moreover, the decline in Hebrew reflects the general decline in much secondary school language learning in Australia (Kohler et al., 2014). Considering the School’s aim ‘to instil passion and love of Hebrew as a living language through its connection to Israel and the Jewish people’, both the quantitative (Tables 15.2 and 15.3) and qualitative datasets demonstrate that students in Years 5–7 perceived the study of Modern Hebrew as both important and enjoyable. This finding is congruent with Pomson and Wertheimer’s North American findings (Pomson & Wertheimer, 2017): [E]lementary school students [are] making good progress in learning the Hebrew language, and express a great deal of satisfaction with their progress. However, by middle school and certainly by high school, students express increased dissatisfaction with the quality of Hebrew instruction as compared to other subjects.

Nonetheless, once the study of Hebrew ceases to be compulsory in the School (Years 8–12), less than half of the students indicated (in the online survey) that they perceived studying the language as ‘very/fairly important’: Year 8–37.5 percent; Year 9–40.4 percent; Year 10–27.9 percent; Year 11–25.0 percent; and Y 12–50.0 percent. Thus, overall, my findings, regarding the secondary-school students’ increasing dissatisfaction with Hebrew instruction, parallels both Gross and Rutland’s Australian findings (Gross & Rutland, 2014a, 2015), and Pomson and Wertheimer’s North American findings (Pomson & Wertheimer, 2017).

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

369

The findings from the Year 11’s focus-group interviews provide a more nuanced picture, pointing to a difference between views regarding studying the language and views of the language itself. Those who continued their Hebrew studies expressed great enjoyment, with Olivia stating the privilege to share Hebrew prayers with family, and Leon stating his admiration for the Hebrew teacher. Among the students who ceased studying Hebrew many distinguish between studying and knowing Hebrew. Thus, on the one hand, Allegra and Craig opined that Hebrew does not connect them to Judaism; and Rachel stated that the level is not very good. On the other hand, Lani commented that she liked Hebrew even though her lack of understanding caused extra stress; Isabella stated that she enjoyed studying it for a time; Apple, Lani and Liron specified that they would like to continue studying it at some later stage; and Mia stated that knowledge of Hebrew deepens her connection to Israel. These views reveal the complexity and ambivalence of students’ attitudes regarding the importance of Hebrew to their ethniccultural Jewish identity.

Conclusions and Recommendations The School at the centre of this study has developed a clearly thought-out and detailed published educational mission that sets-out to enculturate and socialize students into their Jewish faith-based heritage and community. Yet, by engaging with students, listening to their voice/s, and considering their perspectives, a clearer understanding of the ways they experience the teaching and learning of their Judaic, Israel and Hebrew studies emerges. Moreover, the findings demonstrate that students viewed their pluralistic Jewish identity and their engagement with secular/pluralistic Judaism as significant (Gilead, 2020). As well, they viewed their ‘Jewish learning and living’ topics and connection to Israel and to Israeli culture, including some Hebrew terminology, as both important and affective. This indicates that the School’s Jewish/Israel identity education and mission to enculturate and socialize students into Jewish peoplehood is largely effective.

370 

Y. Gilead

Yet, when it comes to the study of Modern Hebrew, at least once it ceases to be a compulsory subject at the end of Year 7, the majority of students perceived it to be less important. This reality raises the question, why? What are the possible causes of this decline? • Can students’ loss of interest in studying Hebrew, once they reach secondary level, be related to Australia’s so-called monolingual mindset? and how significant is English’s assimilative force despite Australia's strong multicultural nature? • Can students’ perceptions of the declining importance of studying Hebrew be related to the fact that it ceases to be a compulsory subject? What is the relationship between these two factors? • What is the relationship between the implemented Modern Hebrew program and students’ views of learning the language? • What is the place and role students attribute to the usage and knowledge of Modern Hebrew as a component of their pluralistic ethnic-­ cultural Jewish identity formation? Based on their North American survey, Pomson and Wertheimer (2017) found three distinguishing features of North American Jewish day schools ‘where students express high levels of satisfaction with their Hebrew language classes and levels of achievement… [i] ensuring and communicating that Hebrew matters; [ii] strong and visible leadership; and [iii] investing resources and attention in staff ' (Pomson & Wertheimer, 2017). To these three features, I would like to add, with respect to Modern Hebrew instruction both in the School specifically and in other Jewish day schools  in Australia, (iv) a well-organised and age-appropriate teaching-­learning program, (v) an enjoyable and challenging learner-­ cantered pedagogical practice; as well as (vi) a paradigm shift towards developing a more plurilingual mindset (Clyne, 2008). It is important to explore further the relationship between students’ identity formation, both the cognitive and affective-spiritual components, and the formal instruction of Modern Hebrew. According to Groundwater-Smith (Groundwater-Smith, 2017), listening to how the ‘consequential stakeholders, the students themselves’ view these

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

371

endeavours sheds light on this question. Hence, further research-based investigation of the implementation of classroom teaching-learning environments for language study, including students’ perceptions and experience of the spirituality component of Judaism, needs to be encouraged, as well as the impact of Modern Hebrew knowledge on students’ heritage and religious-spiritual-ethnic-cultural identity exploration and socialisation.

References Avni, S. (2011). Toward an Understanding of Hebrew Language Education: Ideologies, Emotions, and Identity. International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 208(109), 53–70. https://doi.org/10.1515/IJSL.2011.012 Ben-Moshe, D., & Mittelberg, D. (2012). The Place of Israel and Jewish Peoplehood in Jewish Education in the Diaspora: An Australian Case Study. In N.  Chamo & Y.  Dror (Eds.), Paths in Pluralistic Jewish Education (pp. 58–90). The Mofet Institute. Brosh, H. (2010/1996). Hebrew Language Diffusion Through Schools and Universities in America. Journal of Jewish Education, 62(3), 13–20. https:// doi.org/10.1080/15244110903572965 Clyne, M. (2008). The Monolingual Mindset as an Impediment to the Development of Plurilingual Potential in Australia. Sociolinguistic Studies, 2(3), 347–366. https://doi.org/10.1558/sols.v2i3.347 Conyer, B. (2011). Pluralism in Jewish Education. In H. Miller, L. Grant, & A. Pomson (Eds.), International Handbook of Jewish Education (pp. 267–284). Dewey, J. (1897/1959). My Pedagogic Creed. The School Journal, 3, 77–80. Retrieved from https://infed.org/mobi/john-­dewey-­my-­pedagogical-­creed/ https://infed.org/john-­dewey-­my-­pedagogical-­creed/ Ezrachi, E. (2012). In Search of Roots and Routes: The Making and Remaking of the Diasporic Jewish Identity. In H.  E. Goldberg, S.  M. Cohen, & E.  Kopelowitz (Eds.), Dynamic Belonging: Contemporary Jewish Collective Identities (pp. 206–218). Page 207. Gilead, Y. (2020). School’s Place in Nurturing Students’ Jewish Identity Within a Broader Social and Cultural World: Stakeholders’ Experience. Journal of Jewish Education, 86(3), 321–357. https://doi.org/10.1080/15244113. 2020.1727305

372 

Y. Gilead

Gross, Z., & Rutland, S. (2014a). The Chicken and the Egg: Connections Between Hebrew Language Teaching, Curriculum and Identity in Jewish Day Schools in Australia. Curriculum and Teaching, 29(1), 53–70. Gross, Z., & Rutland, S. (2014b). Intergenerational Challenges in Australian Jewish School Education. Religious Education the Official Journal of the Religious Education Association, 109(2), 143–161. Gross, Z., & Rutland, S. (2015). The Place of Hebrew and Israel Education in Australian Jewish Schools. In S.  Burla & D.  Lawrence (Eds.), Australia & Israel: A Diasporic, Cultural and Political Relationship (pp.  70–89). Sussex Academic Press. Gross, Z., & Rutland, S. (2021, this volume). The Intersection of Hebrew, Judaism and Jewish Spirituality. In R. Moloney, S. Mansour, & J. Troy (Eds.), Language and Spirit: Exploring Languages, Religion and Spirituality in Australia Today. Palgrave Macmillan. Groundwater-Smith, S. (2017). Student Voice: Essential Testimony for Intelligent Schools. In From Practice to Praxis: A Reflexive Turn, the Selected Works of Susan Groundwater-Smith (pp. 121–134). Routledge. Kaplan, M. (1967). Judaism as a Civilization. Schocken. Kohler, M., Curnow, T. J., Spence-Brown, R., & Wardlaw, C. (2014). Senior Secondary Languages Education Research Project. Final Report Retrieved Asia Education Foundation Australia. Markus, A., Munz, M., & Munz, T. (2020). GEN 17 Australian Jewish Community Survey Final. Retrieved from Australian Centre for Jewish Civilisation Faculty of Arts Monash University Victoria. Miller, J., & Glassner, B. (2004). The “Inside” and the “Outside”: Finding Realities in Interviews. In D. Silverman (Ed.), Qualitative Research: Theory, Method and Practice (2nd ed., pp. 125–139). Sage Publications. Page 126. Mintz, A. (1993). Hebrew in America. Wayne State University Press. Mittelberg, D. (2013). Education for Jewish Peoplehood in Australia. The Jewish Journal of Sociology, 55(1 and 2), 59–90. Morahg, G. (2006/1999). Hebrew: A Language of Identity. Journal of Jewish Education, 65(3), 9–16. https://doi.org/10.1080/0021624990650305 Pomson, A., & Deitcher, H. (2010). Education Day School Israel Education in the Age of Birthright. Journal of Jewish Education, 76(1), 52–73. https://doi. org/10.1080/15244110903572965 Pomson, A., & Wertheimer, J. (2017). Hebrew for What? Hebrew at the Heart of Jewish Day Schools. Retrieved from https://avichai.org/knowledge_ base/hebrew-­for-­what-­hebrew-­at-­the-­heart-­of-­jewish-­day-­schools/. Pages 2, 16, 19.

15  The Impact of Learning Language and Culture… 

373

Pomson, A., Wertheimer, J., & Hacohen-Wolf, H. (2014). Hearts and Minds: Israel in North American Jewish Day Schools. Retrieved from https://avichai. org/knowledge_base/hearts-­and-­minds-­israel-­in-­north-­american-­jewish-­ day-­schools/ Schiff, A. (1996). How Crucial Is Hebrew for Jewish Continuity and the Effectiveness of Jewish Education? Journal of Jewish Education, 62(3), 5–12. https://doi.org/10.1080/0021624960620302 School Website. Retrieved January 18, 2021. School’s Website. Retrieved September 13, 2018a; italics in the original. School’s Website. Retrieved September 13, 2018b. Zisenwine, D. (1997). Teaching Hebrew: A Suggestion for Hebrew Educators. Religious Education, 92(1), 55–60. https://doi.org/10.1080/ 0034408970920105

16 Journey into Indian Spirituality: A Westerner Perspective Chantal Crozet

Introduction I write from both a professional and personal perspective, as a woman born in France in the mid-50s who migrated to Australia at the age of 25, as well as a practising tertiary language teacher-researcher. Spirituality for life and for education in foreign languages and interculturality are some of my key and intertwined interests. The relevance of this biographical information becomes more relevant as the chapter progresses. Various scholars within Language and Culture Education (thereafter LCE), have claimed the importance of giving more attention to teachers’ ‘being’ (Kramsch, 1993), or ‘the teaching Self ’ particularly with regards to teachers’ identities, beliefs and values (Kumaravadivelu, 2012; Clarke, 2009). Abadallah-Pretceille and Porcher (1996) went further and pointed to the need for ‘a philosophy of the subject’ for a better understanding between subject (or Self ) and identity (Abdallah-Pretceille & Porcher,

C. Crozet (*) RIMT, Mandi Gobindgarh, India e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_16

375

376 

C. Crozet

1996). More recently the impact of language teachers’ religious beliefs and spirituality on their practice has started to be explored (Shepard Wong & Mahboob, 2018). Aligning with educator Palmer’s (2007) views, my premise is that education in any area (and for any other human activity), ‘emerges from one’s inwardness’, and, that it is important to recognize, how this impacts on one’s teaching and researching practices. ‘Inwardness’ refers to someone’s inner life, matters to do with someone’s soul or spirit. In other words, broadly speaking, what can be coined ‘spirituality’. As suggested by O’Sullivan (1999), spirituality ought to be dissociated from institutional religions and be addressed in education at a more fundamental level than it has been so far, in dealing with global ecological and political issues as well as personal wellbeing. Reasons in support of this argument are explored further. My aim in this chapter is to reflect firstly on how and why my interest in Indian philosophy, which focuses on spirituality, and later my interest in Sanskrit, came to be, and how both have influenced my sense of Self, of the meaning of life and of my academic career. I then reflect on the challenges of ‘coming out’, that is the challenges of integrating Indian philosophical/spiritual sources in my scholarly work as a language teacher-­researcher, and of generally being more upfront with my spiritual outlook on life. Finally, I consider the gains and pitfalls of having endorsed a spiritual/philosophical worldview foreign to my original linguistic and cultural roots and I consider some ways forward.

Journey into Indian Spirituality There are many scholarly definitions of philosophy (Droit, 2008) and of spirituality (Jones, 2005) belonging to different cultural systems of thought, and some do not always split the two. As noted by Raju (1954), Indian philosophy is commonly referred to as spiritual in comparison with modern Western philosophies which are usually associated with humanistic and scientific perspectives. Rau further argues that Indian spirituality or philosophy (thereafter used interchangeably), has to do, at its core, with upholding ‘the life of inwardness’ through the experiential recognition of ‘atman’, conceived as the unperishable essence located

16  Journey into Indian Spirituality: A Westerner Perspective 

377

beyond the mind and manifest in all beings. The concept of ‘atman’ has no direct equivalent in Western philosophies, but it is akin to the concept of the immortal soul as found in Socrates (McPherran, 1994). Unlike secularised modern Western philosophy, Indian philosophy includes logic and reason but does not rely solely on these as the means to inner truth and to uncovering governing principles behind human activities (Zimmer, 1952). More extensively, as pointed out by Mookerji (1947), Indian philosophy is interested in the relationship between the knower (subject/ṛṣi), the known (object/chanda) and the process of knowing (devatā), whereas modern secularised Western philosophy focuses more exclusively on the rational understanding of the known, that is objective access to truth (Crozet, 2015). Indian spirituality is embedded in a complex philosophical system originally referred to as ‘darśana’ in Sanskrit, from the verb root dṛś, meaning ‘to see’ or ‘direct cognition of truth’ through various meditative practices, quite a foreign notion to the Western modern mind. Fundamental differences between Indian and modern Western philosophies in approaches to the sources and acquisition of knowledge, and to what constitutes and is valued as knowledge have no doubt contributed to what French philosopher Roger-Pol Droit (Droit, 2004) called ‘L’oubli de l’Inde’ (The forgetting of India) as a gross amnesia in modern Western thought. On a personal level, within the modern French and Australian cultures in which I have lived and been formally educated, rationality and materialism tend to be unconsciously accepted as the ideological underpinnings of reality (Griffiths, 1989). In these two cultures there is no easy access to worldviews or bodies of knowledge which acknowledge the existence of any form of transcendental reality. Yet, from the age of 12 onwards, I sensed and was drawn to the transcendental dimension of being. I became naturally interested in accessing it at will through meditation, as well as understanding its significance in making sense of life and death. The Christian Catholic faith in which I was raised had not nourished my yearning for either the experience or the understanding of transcendence, nor had it provided rational answers to my metaphysical questions: Who am I? Why live? Is there anything after death? Why the earth? If anything, it instilled in me the fear of a male God who imposed rigid morality appearing to suppress life rather than celebrate it. My

378 

C. Crozet

formal primary and secondary schooling in France and later my tertiary education in Australia also occulted any spiritual or philosophical perspectives on the world affairs and on academic subjects, the acquisition of objective and rationally acquired knowledge being the sole purpose of French and Anglo-Australian public education as I have known them. As early as my late teens or early twenties, as my informal and formal education had not provided answers to my existential quest, like many people of my generation (late baby boomers), I turned to a non-Western system of spiritual/philosophical knowledge, in an ad hoc manner. I had little preparation in what to look for and be mindful of. At the time (late 60s, early 70s), in France as in many other Western countries, many young people like myself, but also scholars (for example, scientists and psychologists) of all ages, became ‘spiritual seekers’ (Golderg, 2010). We began practicing meditation and yoga whilst discovering aspects of Indian philosophy through independent reading, or by following the teachings of gurus of Eastern or Western origins. Gurus provided their necessarily distilled version of Indian scriptures (see further reflection and references on this topic under ‘Coming out’ and ‘Gains and pitfalls’). For some years, I was a member of the Transcendental Meditation Movement led by Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, and later followed the teachings of Mata Amritanandamayi Ma, both Indian gurus with large numbers of Western followers in their time. Arguably, it is the oversecularisation of society and education in countries like France and Australia which contributed to the 60s–70s’ generation seeking spiritual nourishment which had explanatory power on existential matters. They sought this nourishment where it was made available, that is, outside the religions and cultures of their upbringing which many youths of this generation questioned and even rejected. Over time, Indian inspired spirituality impacted enormously on my sense of Self and identity, on the meaning I gave to life, how I led it on an everyday basis, and to my approach to the meaning of an academic career. I became a believer in reincarnation, endorsed the concept of ‘karma’ (see note)1 as explanatory power and the importance of living a life in ‘dharma’ (see note).2 A daily practice of meditation and yoga, of reading Indian scriptures (e.g. The Bhagavad Gita, The Upanishads, The Ramayana), of adhering to a vegetarian diet and adherence to Ayurveda

16  Journey into Indian Spirituality: A Westerner Perspective 

379

(India’s traditional health system) became the outside markers of a life led in the margin of French and Australian mainstream societies. For twenty years, I visited ashrams in India as regularly as I visited relatives in France. Indian spiritual culture became almost my third culture. Professionally, I struggled reconciling my interest in Indian spirituality and giving primary focus to the development of subjective knowledge/inwardness with the ideals of Western neoliberal academia overly focusing on the pursuit of objective knowledge and of the measurable outcomes and impact of academic work. As I tried to reconcile tensions within myself between personal and academic pursuits, my journey into Indian spirituality itself was not all smooth sailing. As an academic I couldn’t help wanting to bring a more reflexive approach into my spiritual quest, learning Sanskrit was one first step in this direction.

Learning Sanskrit My original interest in Sanskrit was to be able to read Indian Scriptures in their original version rather than being bound to reading numerous translations and commentaries of them in English or French. Having trained as a linguist, I was well aware of the downfalls of translated works. I proceeded to learning Sanskrit formally and after a few years I was by no means able to read it fluently, but I could start appreciating the loss of meaning in translations of at least some of the Sanskrit verses I was reading. It was also part of wanting to understand better the ancient culture that had given rise to Indian spirituality and to move towards cultural appreciation of a different system of thought rather than the simple cultural appropriation of it. The understanding of concepts embedded in terms such as ‘Karma’, ‘Dharma’ and ‘Moksha’,3 which have become popular in contemporary Western yoga culture, acquire much deeper and complex meaning when studied as part of the vast body of knowledge that Indian spirituality/philosophy is. Depth and nuanced understanding was what I was after, rather than reduction of an entire new system of thought to a few concepts easily turned into exoticization or romanticizing of difference when explored on the surface only. I am still on this life-long journey.

380 

C. Crozet

As I kept reading Indian philosophy and learning Sanskrit, I longed to include my spiritual take on life into my scholarly work. This was for the sake of integrity, not only to feel more truthful but also to help debunk the notion that a modern Western worldview was necessarily the only higher order model to follow, particularly in such important areas as one’s inner life, Self and identity.

‘Coming Out’ In 2006, I wrote a first article (Crozet, 2006) which was an initial attempt at sharing the influence of Indian philosophical thought on my concepts of Self and identity, and this primarily because they resonated with my experience of both. I argued that, within LCE, scholarly work not only commonly blurs concepts of Self, subjectivity and identity (Kramsch, 2015), it also tends to exclude any philosophical/spiritual perspectives on them. It usually takes as a premise postmodern views that Self, subjectivity and identity are socially constructed, that they are therefore only dynamic experiences of being, forever in the making according to one’s responses to varying contexts. There is little acknowledgement of ‘atman’ a permanent stable transcendental experience of Self, of being, also a place of ‘non-culture’ which I argued allows for the acting out of various socio-cultural identities in the first place. It is beyond the scope of this chapter to delve further into this deeply philosophical yet important conundrum. However, it can at least be noted that it needs further consideration, and that not all Western scholars abide by dominant Western views on the nature of Self and identity. In a subsequent article (Crozet, 2012) I contended that education in ancient India could be one source of inspiration for education in modern times, because of its focus on nurturing one’s inner life, an area grossly missing in modern Western education. I then wrote a third article (Crozet, 2015) in which I invited language teacher-researchers to dare venture outside the theoretical frameworks generated by leading scholars in LCE regarding concepts of Self and identity. I pointed to the importance of honouring one’s own multilingual and intercultural experiences, as well as exposure to non-dominant and non-Western sources of

16  Journey into Indian Spirituality: A Westerner Perspective 

381

knowledge. In this article, I also explored connections between the ‘atman’ concept in Indian spirituality, and the concept of ‘transpersonal identity’ in Transpersonal Psychology which recognizes the spiritual dimension of the psyche. I was looking for common threads beyond an Eastern/Western divide. The three articles mentioned above were a way of ‘coming out’ as a scholar with a Western/French-Australian background using Eastern/ Indian sources of knowledge in order to be able to refer to a spiritual perspective which was not addressed in LCE. I soon found myself caught in the midst of an intercultural intellectual space which was both liberating and challenging. Quoting Indian scholars on Indian philosophy which whom I was/am still barely acquainted, felt risky if not pretentious. Even more challenging was the fear that the mention of Indian spirituality would be dismissed at once in secular Western academic circles prone to associate it with religious beliefs, hence deem it theoretically invalid. The publication of these articles was encouraging and meant that my fears were not entirely founded. Conference presentations based on these articles were nonetheless always met with complete silence which I took as lack of interest. In India itself, as noted by Radhakrishnan, Indian philosophy is little known or even valued for the immense body of knowledge it represents (Radhakrishnan, 1999): Ignorance of the subject of Indian thought is profound. To the modern mind Indian philosophy means two or three ‘silly’ notions about māyā, or the delusiveness of the world karma, or belief in fate, and tyāga or the ascetic desire to be rid of the flesh. Even these simple notions, it is said, are wrapped up in barbarous nomenclature and chaotic clouds of vapour and verbiage, looked upon by the ‘natives’ as wonders of the intellect. After a six months’ tour from Calcutta to Cape Comorin, our modern aesthete dismisses the whole of Indian culture and philosophy as ‘pantheism’, ‘­worthless scholasticism’, ‘a mere play upon words’, ‘at all events nothing similar to Plato or Aristotle or even Plotinus or Bacon’. The intelligent student interested in philosophy will, however, find in Indian thought an extraordinary mass of material which for detail and variety has hardly any equal in any other part of the world.

382 

C. Crozet

By my own standards, becoming more and more aware of the precarious intellectual third space I had jumped into, aided in part by my secondary research interest on religion and spirituality in contemporary France, I searched more proactively for Western sources of spiritual acknowledgement of the human condition that I could quote in my future work. For example, Simone Weil’s (2017) essay ‘La personne et le sacré’4 written in 1943 is a profound and inspiring philosophical discussion in which she questions the secular sacredness accorded to the individual (‘la personne’) in dominant Western culture, suggesting instead to give more attention to the sacred space beyond the personal and impersonal, a space linkable to the Indian ‘atman’ concept. As a French philosopher and mystic, Simone Weil is known to have studied the Bhagavad Gita and subsequently learnt Sanskrit, it is therefore likely that she was influenced by Indian spiritual thought in formulating her concept of the sacred. French philosophers’ curiosity about Indian philosophy is not new. Bridet et al. (2006) whom I quoted in earlier work (Crozet, 2015), have noted ‘the use of India’ by French philosophers of the enlightenment, like Diderot and Voltaire, who suspected it had much to offer as non-­Christian philosophy of wisdom. Bridet, Moussa and Petre further argued that these philosophers used it to question the superiority and universalism of Judeo-Christianity over other religious systems. However, the more substantial history of ‘Indian imports’ into Western cultures is usually dated as having started in the second half of the nineteenth century with the influential works of Madame Blavatsky (Zimmer, 1952) and of the Theosophical society she co-founded in 1975 (Lachman, 2012). Indian spirituality in the West gained momentum from then on. The works of Goldberg’s in ‘American Veda’ (Golderg, 2010), Fields’ (1992) in ‘How the Swans Came to the Lake’ and of Ceccomori (2001) in ‘Cent Ans de Yoga en France’ (One hundred years of Yoga in France) are recent examples tracing the history of Indian based spirituality in Western contexts. ‘Coming out’ when I did, as a Western scholar using Indian spiritual sources, was helped by several factors. The first one relates to what scholars have called ‘the return’ or ‘the mutation’ of the religious in contemporary Western societies (Kepel, 1994; Roy, 2008). This means that religious and spiritual matters are now recognized as social forces which must be

16  Journey into Indian Spirituality: A Westerner Perspective 

383

taken into account in understanding new personal, social and political unrest in all spheres of human activity. One of the many factors, often quoted in explaining the return of the religious (and the spiritual), is the intensified quest for meaning which many feel, amidst current political, ecological and pandemic upheavals occurring locally and globally, of an unprecedented order (Gori, 2017; Crozet, 2018). Along with the religion scholar Karen Armstrong (2014), philosophers like Julia Kristeva (2007) have recently argued that ‘cutting ties’ with religion has left a potentially dangerous gap too often filled by new political ideologies which provide answers to identity issues, and the need to believe for some. Kristeva recognizes that the need to believe in something bigger than oneself is a fundamental human need, and that it is linked to the desire for knowledge. Left unattended by secular modernity this need is now coming back seeking places where it can be met. Religion and spirituality have now come out of the shadow and can be talked about more openly in academia, at least more so than it was the case before and though there is still a long way to go. The second factor relates to the decolonization of academia movement (see for example within LCE, the works of Macedo (2019) and Machart et al. (2016) which are helping to debunk the myth of Western knowledge’s supremacy and universality. Manuthanga (2015) also questions the overvaluing of rationality as the main avenue to human knowledge and betterment. In her call for the inclusion of ‘Southern knowledge systems’ in higher education, she points to the importance of respecting different spiritual knowledge systems from different cultures. Calls for the inclusion in education of First nations cultures across the world are also helping revalue spiritual knowledge systems (Mignolo, 2000; Florez & Crozet, 2019). In an increasingly transcultural world, Western rationality and secularism is slowly being put back in its place as one, but not the sole model, to aspire to. The return of the religious and with it spirituality, regardless of the many reasons which are prompting its development, together with the decolonisation movement and the revaluing of indigenous cultures, are helping carve a space for spirituality as a form of knowledge worthy of academic attention. However, treading on religious and spiritual paths in academic discourse is a perilous adventure. In order to avoid the shortfalls

384 

C. Crozet

of these paths, criticality needs to be brought into their folds, if there are to provide socially, culturally and academically sustainable avenues for the future.

Gains and Pitfalls Reflecting back on my venture into Indian spirituality as a Westerner, I can appreciate many gains from it but also its pitfalls. My experience with the Transcendental Meditation and Amritanandamayi Ma movements gave me access to Indian spirituality, but only to an extent. The major gain I am grateful for is their support for the practice of meditation, hence the experience of transcendence. Otherwise, as is the case with many Asian spiritual movement imports into contemporary Western societies, I found that in these two movements, the over emphasis on devotion to the guru and blind acceptance of their teachings eventually led me to depart from them, as I had departed from the Christianity of my upbringing. Critical intelligence was lacking for me in all of them, and with it the non-attendance to power related issues with actual or potential disastrous effects on individuals. Despite their claim of not being a religion, I found that both the Transcendental Meditation and Amritanandamayi Ma movements tended to act like one. Religion to me means the institutionalization and hierarchisation of religious or spiritual knowledge, leaving little room for a genuine democratic and critical approach to the exploration of the inner life. For a while, I did appreciate the sense of belonging to communities of like-minded spiritual seekers and the comfort it provides. I am also aware that part of being attracted to Indian spirituality was the access it gave me to a new (Indian) cultural environment. My numerous trips to Indian ashrams had something exotic about them, providing a sense of excitement which had nothing to do with spiritual seeking. I am still practising yoga and meditation and follow the basic principles of an ayurvedic diet and preventive health system in my daily life. Those gains are invaluable. What I deplore is not having had the opportunity to study earlier and more systematically the world philosophical and spiritual systems, enabling me to put them into their historical and cultural contexts, to

16  Journey into Indian Spirituality: A Westerner Perspective 

385

gain a big picture of humanity’s search for meaning and purpose. I also wish I had been introduced to a supported meditation practice much earlier in my life, together with an understanding of the workings of the mind-body connection. I wish that Self-knowledge had been part of my formal education.

Concluding Remarks The recent inclusion of religious studies in schools in Western countries like Australia and France is a step forward. However, it has more to do with the realisation that religions are an important cultural capital for understanding the past and present, than an intention to nurture learners’ inwardness. These studies are no path to Self-knowledge and turning to Indian based spirituality as a first entry point to it may not be the best course of action, in Western contexts at least. However, giving space to students at all levels to interrogate and entangle their own personal history so that they can better choose their own standpoint in life can be a start to supporting Self-knowledge, like giving tools to peel the outer layers of an onion before getting to its core. Language teacher-researchers like me are in a unique place to initiate some work in this direction, however humble this may be. When teaching French as a foreign language and culture from an intercultural perspective, or when teaching about language and culture in a course on Intercultural Communication, as I do, there are many opportunities to include self-reflexivity in the course of teaching and of learning activities. For example, in my second-year French course, we explore the construction and representation of French and Australian national identities, aiming to also prompt a reflection on students’ own identity. Students start writing about their avowed identity (in French) from cultural, linguistic, as well as other perspectives. We talk about the difference between collective identity and sense of self. I seize the opportunity to ask if their identity is all of who they are, if it is the same as their sense of self. This is a short but not innocent exercise in applied philosophy the ancient way. After all, philosophy in its origin in Western culture was an enquiry in what it means to be human, a practice rather than a theorization. ‘Know

386 

C. Crozet

thyself ’, as Socrates advocated, meant examining one’s life. That can include the role of language and culture in shaping but not necessarily limiting one’s world view. Likewise, in my first-year course on Intercultural Communication (ICC), the first assessment requires students to write their linguistic and cultural biographies, something which is challenging but highly revealing to most students. The aim is for students to become aware of the power of the language(s) they speak and the culture(s) they live in, in shaping their sense of who they are, whilst at the same time they are neither fully the languages and cultures they inhabit. Rather, there is more to them. This reflection is embedded in a prior reflection on ‘structure’ and ‘agency’ from a theoretical standpoint. I also include in my ICC course an introduction to the main religions and systems of thought in the world. Most students are not unacquainted with this kind of reflexivity and knowledge but welcome both. My journey into and interest in spirituality in my personal life is no doubt part and parcel of my outlook on my academic career. Writing this chapter has allowed me to reflect on it further and it has reminded me of the importance of owning one’s inner journey in order to understand better its impact on one’s personal and professional lives.

Notes 1. Karma from the Sanskrit root ‘kri’ (to do/action) refers to the principle of cause and effect. 2. Dharma from the Sanskrit root ‘dhr’ (to hold/support) refers to behaviours in accord with natural laws which uphold the universe. 3. Moksha from the Sanskrit root ‘muc’ (to release/let go) refers to liberation from the cycle of birth and death. 4. Veils’ essay: ‘La personne et le sacré’, translated in English as ‘Human personality: Beyond the personal and impersonal’.

16  Journey into Indian Spirituality: A Westerner Perspective 

387

References Abdallah-Pretceille, M., & Porcher, L. (1996). Education et Communication Interculturelle. PUF. Armstrong, K. (2014). Fields of Blood, Religion and the History of Violence. Random House. Bridet, G., Moussa, S., & Petr, C. (2006). L’usage de l’Inde dans les littératures française et européenne (XVIIIe–XXe siècles) (The Use of India in French and European Literatures). Editions Kailash. Ceccomori, S. (2001). Cent Ans de Yoga en France (One Hundred Years of Yoga in France). Edidit. Clarke, M. (2009). The Ethico-Politics of Teacher Identity. Educational Philosophy and Theory, 41(2), 185–200. Crozet, C. (2006). The Spiritual Dimension of Intercultural Language Education. The International Journal of the Humanities, 14(3), 119–124. Crozet, C. (2012). Education and Culture: Framing Key Differences Between Ancient India, Islamic and Western Pedagogies. In Ibrahima Diallo (Ed.), The International Journal of Pedagogies and Learning, 7(3), 262–265. Crozet, C. (2015). First, Second, Third Place and Beyond: Reflection on a Philosophy of Self & Identity for Intercultural Language Teaching. In B. W. Chan, S. K. Bhatt, M. Nagami, & I. Walker (Eds.), Culture and Foreign Language Education (pp. 135–154). De Gruyter Mouton. Crozet, C. (2018). Insights into France’s Relationship to Religion(s) and Spirituality. The International Journal of Civic, Political, and Community Studies, 16(1), 27–39. Droit, R. P. (2004). L’oubli de l’Inde—Une amnésie philosophique (The Forgetting of India, a Philosophical Amnesia). Editions du Seuil. Droit, R. P. (2008, 2011). Une brève histoire de la philosophie (A Brief History of Philosophy). Flammarion. Fields, R. (1992). How the Swans Came to the Lake—A Narrative History of Buddhism in America. Shambhala Publications. Florez, M., & Crozet, C. (2019). ¿Concordia o colisión entre competencia intercultural e interculturalidad (Concord or Collision, Between Intercultural Competence and Interculturality). Matices en Lenguas Extranjeras, 13, 208–228. Golderg, P. (2010). American Veda—From Emerson and the Beatles to Yoga and Meditation, How Indian Spirituality Changed the West. Harmony Books.

388 

C. Crozet

Gori, R. (2017). Un monde sans esprit—La fabrique des terrorismes (A World Without Soul—The Making of Terrorisms). Editions Les Liens qui Libèrent. Griffiths, B. (1989). A New Vision of Reality—Western Science, Eastern Mysticism and Christian Faith. HarperColllins. Jones, L. (2005). What Does Spirituality in Education Mean? Journal of College and Character, 6(7), 1–7. Kepel, G. (1994). The Revenge of God: The Resurgence of Islam, Christianity and Judaism in the Modern World. Polity. Kramsch, C. (1993). Context and Culture in Language Teaching. Oxford University Press. Kramsch, C. (2015). Identity and Subjectivity—Different Timescales, Different Methodologies. In F. Dervin & K. Risager (Eds.), Researching Identity and Interculturality (pp. 211–230). Routledge. Kristeva, J. (2007). Cet incroyable besoin de croire (This Incredible Need to Believe). Bayard. Kumaravadivelu, B. (2012). Language Teacher Education for a Global Society. Routledge. Lachman, G. (2012). Madame Blavatsky—The Mother of Modern Spirituality. Penguin Group. Macedo, D. (Ed.). (2019). Decolonizing Foreign Language Education—The Misteaching of English and Other Colonial Languages. Routledge. Machart, R., Dervin, F., & Gao, M. (Eds.). (2016). Intercultural Masquerade— New Orientalis, New Occidentalism, Old Exoticism. Springer. Manuthanga, C. (2015). Transcultural and Postcolonial Explorations: Unsettling Education. The International Education Journal: Comparative Perspectives, 14(2), 10–21. McPherran, M. L. (1994). Socrates on the Immortality of the Soul. Journal of the History of Philosophy, 32(1), 1–22. Mignolo, W. (2000). Local histories/Global Designs. Coloniality, Subaltern Knowledges and Border Thinking. Princeton University Press. Mookerji, R. K. (1947). Ancient Indian Education, Brahmanical and Buddhist. Motilal Banarsidass. O’Sullivan, E. (1999). Transformative Learning—Educational Vision for the 21st Century. Zed Books. Palmer, P. (2007). The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher’s Life. Wiley. Radhakrishnan, S. (1999). Indian Philosophy (Vols. 1 & 2, pp.  7–8). Oxford University Press.

16  Journey into Indian Spirituality: A Westerner Perspective 

389

Raju, P. T. (1954). The Concept of the Spiritual in Indian Thought Author(s). Philosophy East and West, 4(3), 195–213. Roy, O. (2008). La Sainte Ignorance, Le Temps de la Religion sans Culture (Holy Ignorance—When Religion and Culture Part Ways). Le Seuil. Shepard Wong, M., & Mahboob, A. (Eds.). (2018). Spirituality and English Language Teaching: Religious Explorations of Teacher Identity, Pedagogy. Multilingual Matters. Weil, S. (2017). La personne et le sacré (Human Personality: Beyond the Personal and the Impersonal). Editions Payot and Rivages. Zimmer, H. (1952). Philosophies of India (J.  Campbell, Ed.). Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd.

17 Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding, Personal Reflections and Professional Problems Joseph Lo Bianco

Introduction “Why doesn’t he just stay out of it? Religion, that’s probably the cause of all this!”. My interlocutor was angry at Cardinal Charles Maung Bo, archbishop of Yangon. She’d never heard of him prior to our conversation, but a Catholic cardinal denouncing a military coup in a majority Buddhist society which in recent years had seen mind-numbing violence against Muslims, struck her as “wrong, wrong, wrong”. I had mentioned the Cardinal’s March 15 2021 Open Letter to the people of Myanmar and his video message to a prayer service on March 14. While she accepted his description that Myanmar faced “yet another chapter of darkness, bloodshed and repression” and could appreciate his account of the “amazing courage, commitment and creativity of our people” and lament that this bravery was responded to by “bullets, beatings, bloodshed and grief”, she just

J. Lo Bianco (*) University of Melbourne, Melbourne, VIC, Australia e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6_17

391

392 

J. Lo Bianco

could not countenance that his intervention was expressed through his religious identity. Solving political problems is for the United Nations, she insisted; and it’s up to the “Burmese people to sort this out.” But Cardinal Bo is Burmese, as he makes clear: “…the blood spilled is not the blood of an enemy. It is the blood of our own sisters and brothers, our own citizens.” I have long been aware of a strain of Australian secularism that sees no place in public debate for religiously based interventions. I once held this view myself and still believe that participants in debates should be transparent about the basis of their views and interests. But it is surely unreasonable to silence any legitimate group which represents citizens, since democratic deliberation cannot set exclusions of this kind, and silencing views produces worse consequences than open discussion. This is one Australian attitude to questions of religion in the public square, not uncommon but not dominant either. I have worked in South East Asia for much of my career, and on my return from work assignments I have become increasingly conscious of problems associated with a dogmatic stance of this kind. It seems to me to reveal a cultural loss, a sociological weakness and an epistemic limitation. In large parts of the world most people are either overtly religious or live in faith-based societies in which religious political reasoning is common. I have worked with Australians in SE Asian settings who don’t make the transition from the secularising ethos of public life at home to radically different settings where religious adherence is the norm. A ‘secular’ society is inclusive of religion and non-­ religion, of faith and non-faith, and other shades of belief and opinion. The public sphere should be open to all views, especially when religious faith has shaped much of what is subliminally assumed in our society, including our so-called ‘Western’ mind (Holland, 2019). There is another other strain of Australian faith, spirit and religion, and it is depicted by the remarkable personal narrators contained in this wonderful book. The 36 compelling narratives, many emotionally moving and all informative, integrate very effectively with the analytical academic chapters. Together they document and display the heterogeneity of faith, religion and spirit and the languages which express and capture the multiple forms of belief in contemporary society. The overall effect of the narratives and the analytical chapters is of a serious treatment of a multilingual, multicultural and multifaith Australia.

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

393

The book represents the local instantiation of the immense diversity of faith practices and languages in the world and region, broadly arranged into three dimensions. First, the grounding of the book in Indigenous belief. Second, the formative presence of settler colonial and Christian denominational practice and institution building, still predominant but ceding space to a more secular temper. Third, the extension of the scope of spiritual and religious life through migration. The latter has added many additional faith traditions and practices which in turn interact with the settler and the Indigenous traditions. Migration has also replenished old faith traditions even as it has introduced new ones and in their interaction with Indigenous philosophy, tradition and faith, has generated highly original Australian visions of spiritual life. What makes the volume not just interesting and valuable, but unique, is the direct connection of all three to questions of language. The book is an engaging and important contribution to dialogue about the place and kinds of overt belief in a rapidly secularising Australia, and how these are also associated with multilingual practices and domains.

The Myanmar Coup Context I decided to debate my anti-religious interlocutor on why Cardinal Bo’s Open Letter for Peace should be welcomed by everybody. It is not just because thousands of people were protesting on the streets of Yangon and Mandalay and hundreds are still being brutally killed and bashed, detained and tortured and in such a context all stands against violence are welcome. Mostly it was because Buddhists, Christians and Muslims, and Burmese of no, or little faith, and the small numbers I have met who are anti-faith, are united to resist the violence rained upon them. It is also because one of the cleavages in Burmese society and history has been around multilingualism, just like in Australia  (Lo Bianco, A collective language is being constructed, a discourse with an original vocabulary for new and more open social arrangements that are both multi-faith and multilingual, in which previously excluded minorities and social formations are being invited to find their place.

394 

J. Lo Bianco

On 1 February 2021 General Min Aung Hlaing led a military coup d’état that ended Myanmar’s brief experiment with civilian rule (please see endnote).1 The coup imposed strict martial law and detained elected president U Win Myint and Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, Myanmar’s State Counsellor, president in effect but denied this role by the constitution. Suu Kyi is of course globally famous, the leader of the electorally victorious National League for Democracy, and world icon of Myanmar’s democratic movement, and Nobel Peace laureate. Also arrested were most ministers of the elected government, civil society leaders, students, unionists, and many others. As a member of the Australia Myanmar Institute and having worked in Myanmar on language and peacebuilding for over a decade, I judged Cardinal Bo’s intervention, including the explicitly faith based terms in which it is expressed, to be important and constructive. He is widely known and respected well beyond the Catholic community. He leads interfaith peace work and speaks as a citizen as well as the leader of a small faith community. The coup annulled the results of the 2020 general election, widely agreed to be acceptably fair. It dissolved the parliament and declared a state of emergency. Min Aung Hlaing assumed office on 2 February 2021 and serves as Commander in Chief of the Defence Services, the notorious and feared Tatmadaw. He claims the violent political takeover is authorised under the 2008 Constitution his military predecessors imposed on the nation which makes him, a soldier, the de facto political leader of the country that has repeatedly rejected military governance. Since the coup the streets of Myanmar cities have been awash with the blood of murdered protestors who refuse to accept this latest slide back to military rule. Buddhist monasteries, leaders and education bodies denounced the violence, including the famous Masoyein monastery in Mandalay, and the Sitagu International Buddhist Academy in Sagaing. Muslims, including Rohingya, victims of mind-numbing violence at the hands of the army, most brutally in the mass expulsions of August 2017, have joined Buddhist and Christian Burmese in protest, as have members of all ‘ethnic races’ and language groups of Myanmar’s extremely diverse society.

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

395

Religion in Peacebuilding Galvanising worldwide attention was the heroism and humility of Sister Ann Rose Nu Tawng, of the Congregation of St. Francis Xavier in Mytkyina, capital of Kachin state. On February 28, 2021 she bravely knelt before heavily armed police and implored them to spare the young protestors the nuns had offered sanctuary. “I knelt down…begging them not to shoot and torture the children, but to shoot and kill me instead”. In powerful images broadcast to the world we see young police officers spell bound by her simple gesture of kneeling before them with arms spread apart. They are calmed by her words and gestures; some kneel and clasp their hands in prayer, imitating the small brave woman in front of them. Their superiors scream at them to stand and invade the church and arrest the protestors, but after their act of mirrored supplication and prayer, the young heavily armed police officers walk away peacefully (Times of India and BBC, 2021). One of Myanmar’s largest Buddhist monastic orders, the Shwekyin Nikāya repeatedly urged the military to desist from violence and especially to not harm unarmed civilians. They reminded senior generals that their faith requires mental and moral discipline. They should be good Buddhists and honour the Five Precepts, otherwise they will not secure a human rebirth. The Five Precepts impose onerous demands, not only to refrain from killing young protestors but to not take the life of any sentient being at all; to not steal or indulge in excessive sensual pleasure; to refrain from wrong speech, and to avoid intoxicants that cloud the mind and preclude enlightenment. How could the mental discipline and ‘loving compassion’ entailed in the Five Precepts be reconciled with violent military oppression? Observing these events I have concluded that modern peacebuilding and conflict mitigation strategies should make a greater effort to incorporate and learn from the powerful exemplifying messages of faith, as demonstrated by Sister Ann and the Five Precepts, among others from the past and present. How can a practice of peacemaking in the world not draw on the large reservoir of thought, practice and experience contained within the traditions of faith practice that millions believe in, even

396 

J. Lo Bianco

nominally? And yet, as I have discovered in researching the practices of peacebuilding interventions and the theories on which they are based that this rarely happens. The main informing disciplines currently are psychology, diplomacy and analytics associated with negotiating and bargaining behaviour. Working in Buddhist majority societies I find it alarming that little of the UN supplied and commissioned material makes any substantive reference to Buddhist conceptions of peacebuilding or utilises any of its traditional or contemporary processes of debate, negotiation and persuasion(Arai, 2015). At the very least, in responding to wars, violence and conflict that have major religious content, experts should exploit the resources for peace building within the texts and practices of the religions involved. Many conflicts contain some religious elements, there are many occasions in which the religious act violently, or people take the name of religion to legitimise brutality and violence that they might commit for other reasons. In such instances peacebuilding efforts must utilise whatever resources can be extracted from religion to contest the legitimations that the violent derive from their religious texts. There are many demonstrations of positive contributions that religious based interventions can make to peacebuilding. Some years ago I attended a seminar in Rome about refugee hospitality offered by the Community of Sant’Egidio. In researching their refugee advocacy I learned of their impressive success in mediating the solution to the protracted civil war in Mozambique, the Rome General Peace Accords(Berkley Center for Religion, Peace, & World Affairs at Georgetown University, 2013). It is an instructive case because this Catholic lay organisation effectively brokered a lasting solution to a non-religious political war which had persisted from 1975 to 1990 and in which more than one million people died. The conflict pitted the ruling Marxist Front for the Liberation of Mozambique (FRELIMO) against an anti-communist alliance led by the Mozambican National Resistance (RENAMO), and a myriad of smaller armed groups. It was essentially a Cold War ideological insurgency but with post-colonial ethnic, territorial and historical elements, and also a proxy conflict involving anti-communist neighbour countries, Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) and South Africa, prior to the fall of Apartheid.

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

397

At the Rome seminar speakers expressed Sant’Egidio’s stance of compassion and service as the overriding motive for seeking peace and made clear how decisive this mission was in establishing the personal relationships between combatant leaders, critical to build trust and confidence. In the risky first steps Sant’Egidio actively protected the combatant leaders because as individuals they were required to move ahead of what many of their followers would accept. They had to face down demands for retribution within their movements and promote attitudes of forgiveness and reconciliation. Some of Sant’Egidio’s measures were innovative and others were expedient, such as exploiting the presence of key individuals at a June 1990 World Cup soccer match in Italy. Under cover of soccer they helped bitter rivals meet, talk, take risks and establish the terms for their participation in formal meetings later that year in Rome. Professional mediators were commissioned to prepare the legal agreement and political compromises of the final resolution, but Sant’Egidio remained involved as co-mediators, intervening to encourage and fortify the commitment of key individuals, and to offer perspectives on the content of the formal talks that helped the main political formations accept the evolving compromise. This approach describes a new strain of ‘multi-track’ thinking in contemporary diplomacy. In an expanded conception we can think of diplomacy as a series of languaging events, or ways of organising the talking that is required to make people stop fighting. It is sometimes divided into three or more Tracks (IMTD, 2018). Track 1 talking is reserved for official high-level military or political delegates, who negotiate cease-fires and attempt to generate lasting treaties. Track 2 describes dialogues undertaken by civil society, academic, non-government or religious agents. These offer freedom of manoeuvre to participants who can explore problem solutions and possibilities that are not always available in official talks, but unlike Track 1 participant decisions are usually not enforceable. Track 3 involves encounters between private groups and individuals at grassroots or community levels. The aim is to reduce distance and strangeness, to share and exchange information, to forge understanding and build trust. Ultimately Track 3 dialogues can help foster consensus between groups in conflict and links to Tracks 1 and 2 not as a traditional form of diplomacy but by creating

398 

J. Lo Bianco

the conditions and atmosphere for improved relations, encouraging individuals to take the risk of talking to enemies in open compromising for peace, and accepting the need to then convince followers of compromises agreed in meetings where only delegates attend. Track 3 talking can facilitate problem-solving interactions. All the Tiers, and in some analyses others are identified, are legitimate aspects of an overall peacebuilding effort. Track 1 tends to align with Johan Galtung’s (see below) concept ‘negative peace’, the absence of fighting, and Track 3 aligns more with Galtung’s notion of ‘positive peace’, in which communities build more integrated and cooperating societies. Track 2 supports both. In many parts of the world the dynamics of conflict involve religion and policymakers, educators and others promoting conflict resolution need to explore what resources religious leaders and faith traditions can offer their peacebuilding efforts. In a United States Institute of Peace publication David Smock reviews some of these and points out that one of the unique features of religious practice in peacemaking is a focus on apology and forgiveness(Smock, 2006). I think we can extend this further. In the case of Sister Ann a clear display of personal vulnerability and humility tied to great courage in moments of extreme danger, can be immensely effective and powerful. It is also true however, that some religion inspired peace activity focuses on structural causes of conflict and aims to resolve grievances and tackle inequality, discrimination and social justice. Like language, faith traditions have elements of what is private and what is public, and faith like language is a practice fostering social and communal identity. In these ways, both language, shared languages and the genres and meanings they contain, and faith practices, provide structure and content to the identity of groups. But, also like language, religion is used to foster division and create distance, enmity and conflict. In my work in SE Asia (Lo Bianco, 2019) it is clear that anti-minority hate speech is directly connected to violence and in other ways language is a factor in eroding social cohesion. Both are inescapably social practices whose presence and diversity impose on all societies the need to examine how they can be directed towards social contact, social cohesion, and substantive citizenship. Language, and particularly socially just conceptions of multilingualism in society, can serve as a circuit breaker in

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

399

longstanding conflicts (Lo Bianco, 2019) and some of the elements of personal testimony inherent in faith potentially allow redress of bitterness, hurt and suffering which require acts of forgiveness to break through political stalemates.

L anguage and Conflict: Sri Lanka, Myanmar and South Thailand The links between language and literacy issues and conflict are contested, complex and under researched. Research on connections between language and war/conflict in Asian settings is particularly complex because language questions in Asian conflict zones are also tied to anti-colonial struggle, ideological rivalry, poverty and grievances deriving from structural disadvantages for particular population groups. The contribution of different factors in a given conflict change and evolve due to events of the conflict. Central governments often adopt, in all parts of the world, assimilationist policies aiming to remove or reduce multilingualism in the interests of serving only a dominant and imposed official language. Policies of this kind often lead to resistance and conflict. More positively, multilingual policy is also a force to resolve conflicts. Conflict analysts hardly ever discuss the contribution of the denial of language rights in eroding social cohesion, when a nuanced and expanded sense of the many roles of language in social and political life is needed (Lo Bianco, 2016a; 2016b; 2016c; 2016d; 2016e). In the late 1990s I began a series of consultancy assignments in countries radically different from the one I knew. While I had attended conferences in Malaysia, Thailand, Pacific Island Countries etc., and travelled extensively, it was my first visit to Sri Lanka where religion, language and conflict came together as a joined-up complex. I was based at the National Institute of Education at Maharagama, south of Colombo, working on curriculum and policy for ‘swabhasha’ bilingualism (Sinhala for Tamils, Tamil for Sinhalese), alongside a colleague working on English. The work was linked to the peacebuilding efforts of the then president, and the association between language rights, multilingualism, communication as

400 

J. Lo Bianco

dialogue and exploration of differences, became a lasting part of how I have seen questions of language ever since. For more than a decade I made regular return visits and extended stays to Sri Lanka. On the basis of this work twenty years ago I became involved in United Nations Asia Pacific projects, based often in Bangkok, Thailand, regional headquarters of UNESCO and UNICEF. From this I was invited to design and implement a multi-country language education and peacebuilding initiative. While this covered many SE Asian countries, it was concentrated in Malaysia, Myanmar and Thailand, and in Myanmar was expanded by local bodies into a full language policy and peacebuilding project in severely conflict affected areas. The intensity and frequency of these assignments meant that the operating norms were radically different from those pertaining in Australia (Lo Bianco, 2016b). Most of my primary and early secondary schooling was in small rural Catholic schools, which I recall were radically different from the devout but negotiating Catholicism of my mother and the sceptical religiosity of my father. As Italians, from an ancestrally ancient Greek mountain village in Calabria, escaping poverty and lack of opportunity, lacking formal education and material wealth, their lives were full of hard work and struggle in the often hostile environment of rural agricultural towns. The priests and nuns were mostly of Irish background; they offered material support and assistance to my family who in turn contributed what they could to the struggling school. Some of the ethnic nuances of faith practice are captured in the narrative by Hajek, and in his reflections on forms of observance and cultural styles of belief. Between home and school the apparently shared faith was deeply different in various ways, especially between ideals of literal observance and pragmatic accommodations and ritual. At university and in the city I encountered the urban secularism I discuss above, and the radical experimentation with ideas that characterised 1970s university life. Nothing prepared me for majority Buddhist societies with Muslim and Christian minorities, or for majority Muslim societies with Christian, Hindu and Buddhist minorities and for the many additional variations involved in Southeast Asian societies. In South Thailand many thousands of deaths and tens of thousands of injuries(Tutu Foundation, n.d.) have occurred in a conflict in which language and religion are factors alongside political and historical grievances.

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

401

But the language problems are least attended to. When newspapers report on the conflict the language questions are the least well discussed, the least well understood. Over some decades efforts by the majority Buddhist Thai state to assimilate the mostly Muslim and Malay speaking population in its southernmost border provinces met resistance. Conflict resulted, and revealed the underlying, and never reconciled questions differences of religion, language and ethnicity.

Promoting Language Rights in Policy In the project as applied in Malaysia, Myanmar and Thailand (Lo Bianco, 2016e)  the central technique of multilingual policy writing has been through multilingual facilitated dialogues, also known as deliberation conferencing, deliberation, or mediated dialogues. These are run with key stakeholders to write problem-solving ‘bottom-up’ solutions to the rejected policies of the state, but including the participation of officials to increase the chance that the negotiated outcomes will be adopted and implemented. More than 45 facilitated dialogues have been commissioned as part of a wider UNICEF project on language education, democracy and peacebuilding as means for social cohesion. Each facilitated dialogue is preceded by research and interaction with as many participants as possible. The most successful ones involve months of preparation, four or five days of intense discussion, and follow up. These have resulted in high levels of local agreement, adoption of outcomes and in several cases legislative change or practical policy impacts. Sadly, none of what has been done in Myanmar is guaranteed to survive the current overthrow of democratic possibilities. Most dialogues involve around 35–45 participants selected from the categories of community representative, public official (or politician) and expert (teachers, researchers, consultants). Most are run multilingually, and with full authoring of all decisions by participants. As a form of structured and facilitated talk, dialogues involve elements of tension reduction and conflict resolution as they deal with sensitive and occasionally dangerous issues and relations between antagonistic groups  (Lo Bianco, 2017). Formal discussions convened to tackle

402 

J. Lo Bianco

contentious issues around language problems, not just related to education, questions of faith and spirituality are sometimes prominent, and form part of the complex process of compromising and consensus building involved. The facilitator not only guides discussion, supports dispute resolution and promotes understanding and consensus building, aiming to explore new options but mostly to facilitate latent innovations and decisions. Important insider/outsider issues arise because the facilitator is framed as an expert who is neutral, who has been engaged by an international multilateral agency, and is funded by development assistance grants. Independence and neutrality are part of the complicated ethical dilemmas involved in a role of professional external advisor and facilitator, and frequent cases of ambiguity, role shifts and stalemate occur. The high stakes involved and the important practical consequences of the activity mean that there is usually substantial pressure and interests at play. Because many participants are from marginalised and excluded communities, facilitating links between them and public officials who have been hostile to their interests requires time and repeated facilitation. This in turn runs against the limits of budgets and demands of funders for rapid turn arounds and cost effective solutions to problems. While outside facilitators face obstacles because they have less local knowledge than the participants and will not reside permanently there to see through the results of decisions, there are also clear benefits of not having direct conflicts of interest, and past ‘baggage’.

Language, Faith and Positive Peace One of the key figures in modern peacebuilding theory is Norway’s Johan Galtung, sometimes dubbed the ‘father of peace research’. Many of the distinctions and forms of analysis he has pioneered are now part of the standard way in which peace processes are analysed and how conflicts are addressed. The Desmond Tutu Peace Foundation describes Galtung as the “founder of the discipline of peace studies.”(Tutu Foundation, n.d.). Perhaps Galtung’s most consequential conceptual innovation was the distinction between negative and positive peace. Negative peace describes settings in which there is an absence of overt conflict, often achieved

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

403

through Track 1 diplomacy and the deployment of peacekeeping forces. By contrast, positive peace works to create more integrated and cohesive societies which have available to them mechanisms to resolve tensions and grievances. The practice of ‘peacebuilding’ is conceived as the system and process bridging negative and positive peace, in which regular activity addressing ‘root causes’ and developing local capacity for management of tension and resolution of conflict takes place. Galtung’s approach is realistic about conflict due to another of his insights, the notion of ‘structural violence’ in which inequities foster chronic and therefore unresolved tensions, always likely to emerge as conflict and overt violence at some point if not addressed. These rich and consequential insights, however, contain many references to faith and religion, their potential to contribute to positive peace and also to lead to tension, enmity and conflict. However, there is little about languages, language rights and multilingualism. These are lacunae across all fields of peacemaking efforts in the world. This is an unacceptable situation given how oppression of the languages and communication systems of Indigenous and immigrant and other minority populations deny cultural rights and stifle economic and educational opportunity.

Languages and Faith in Australia: The Volume To characterise Australia’s cultural complexity it is common for people to begin with a distinction between the Indigenous and the immigrant. Each of these categories are mere labels that organise what is in reality a heterogenous space of immense differences of language and culture and identity formations and experiences. There is also considerable overlap, through interaction in education, work, marriage, and common shared citizenship. Each representative of the refracted multicultural immigrant experience of language, speaks their own truth and history. In the first part of the volume, one enters the experience and emotion of thirty six individuals and their complex and remarkable narrations. In Living Spirituality on Country, Michael Jarrett, Nathan Schreiber, Aunty Louise Campbell, Craig Duncan, Kayleen Kerwin, Aunty Diane McNaboe, Corina Norman and Glenn Loughrey show us the continuing yet

404 

J. Lo Bianco

radically changed practices of Australian faith and spirit practices. We see their inseparable connection to languages whose names Australians are increasingly coming to know and greater numbers of students learn in schools. There is a renaissance of awareness of Australia’s long history of thought and living and its unique connection to Country. Australian English has changed significantly in recent years to reflect this growing knowledge, still partial and hesitant perhaps, but we speak of Country, and Language in ways that are not immediately clear to speakers of other English varieties. Perhaps it is not correct to call this a renaissance of awareness, but rather the first clear evidence of a transfer to popular knowledge of academic study and activist demands that non-­ Indigenous Australians should do some listening, some learning and that there be Truth Telling of the colonial violence that characterised the British colonisation of Australia and how its effects persist today. The process and interest in the Uluru Statement from the Heart injects spiritual language into political discussion, and even into the otherwise dry register of constitutional reform, and is clear evidence of the themes these narrators discuss. If we keep this conversation going I feel confident that we might evolve a new civilisational compact in which even the way we imagine citizenship and belonging will be remade. The individuals doing this writing, teaching and demanding are people we share our cities and regions with, co-citizens, and in several cases friends and colleagues, who are linked to and identify with Country, Language and Spirit. They teach Gumbaynggirr, or Gunggay at Yarrabah State School, or Wiradjuri in Dubbo. They introduce concepts of culture and language and place that all language teaching aims to do with learners, but in this case with concepts unique to Australian settings and history, and how people have lived and managed their environment for many millennia. Aunty Louise Campbell, a Stolen Generation survivor, shows how language breathes life into the work of being present on Country and connects people. As the language is helped onto its feet again to walk, it talks and activates ways of being that are unique to its interpretation of the world. What these colleagues are engaged in is urgent and serious. Unlike what other language teachers do, someone teaching Dharug, for example, is involved in reviving, restoring, re-­ activating, as well as instructing. They are bringing a language back which

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

405

had been forced to retreat, nearly obliterated, and they are bringing it back to use. This kind of teaching is much more than an exercise in pedagogy, though the how of teaching also matters. It is also an invitation to learners to identify with, practice, and revitalise the social formations and forms of life that the language expresses, which have been oppressed and damaged in past acts of neglect and violence. For others, such as Glenn Loughrey, the new interest in Indigenous languages also acutely raises the question and complex experience of being Indigenous but not having language. All the narrators speak from settings in which English, and other languages, and other faiths, are present and part of the hybrid activity that restoration acts inevitably contain. After reading these narratives I needed to pause and think about the folds of complexity and experience, struggle and effort, that surround us in the realm of our attachments and identities, but of which we usually hear so little. This already complex and rich experience of language and faith, is followed by another multifaceted reality of religious affiliation in the Living Faiths of immigration diasporas. These two struggle against attrition, with the significant difference that there exist original homelands far away, sometimes left in struggle or expulsion, often experienced as nostalgia or pain, and always offering forms of re-immersion and re-discovery. These narratives are time and place bound, so that traditions change, people age and pass on, life is renewed and changed radically, language expresses these transformations and also freezes them in fossilisation processes particular to the sociolinguistic settings involved. Narratives from Harumi Hayakawa and Reverend Miao You of Buddhist traditions from Asia, and Alex Chistiakoff, Tamara Kotoyan, Matagi Vilitama, Susitina Suli, Sookhee McRoberts, Jaroslav Duma, Dich Dao Archbishop Mar Meelis Zaia and John Hajek present diverse traditions of Christian faith. These include Russian orthodoxy and Lutheranism, Armenian identity and faith and language. We meet small Pacific Island nations and dependencies and their unique languages and Christian religious forms, specifically Niue and Tonga. We understand the nested identities and conflicts within the Austro-Hungarian empire and former Yugoslav national mixes of intermarried and mobile populations, reconciling faith, language and writing systems. The chapters

406 

J. Lo Bianco

features Church experiences from and about South Korea, Ukraine, Vietnam and the Middle East Assyrians, understanding the central importance of Aramaic language and Christian faith in their history and identity. All the diaspora stories relay mixed emotions and prospects, and frequently involve complex or traumatic migration histories. They are compelling and moving accounts of both the personal and the group, whether it is a nation, an empire, an institution or a religious structure, and its relations with others of similar or different cognate faith and language. Hinduism, Islam and Judaism are the focus of the next chapter, narrated by Swati Doshi, Milind Sathye, Varsha Daithankar, Pandit Prakash Dhodari, Ravi Anandarajah, Abdullah Ibrahim, Teuku Chalidin Yacob, Zohra Aly, Diane Alperstein, Judit Rubenstein and Rabbi Zalman Kastel. From these remarkable accounts of venerated traditions of language linked to faith we see how Hindi supports connectedness across generations, how Hindu religious practices live in Marathi, Hindi and Sanskrit languages. We see links between being multilingual and being open to multi-faith experience as parents encourage children to visit temple, gurudwara or church with equal respect. We see personal roles in the support of the Nepalese community in Hindu practice in Australia, and the displaced Sri Lanka families working hard to maintain Tamil Saivist practices and community service. For Abdullah, teaching the Indonesian reveals Islamic faith travel, patterns through lexical loans and ties to Arabic and Urdu, and Afghan cameleers who trekked outback Australia. Personal beliefs and motivations for language teaching tied to a spiritual context are in fact the cornerstones of how community centres and language schools foster cultural harmony. We see how Hebrew and Yiddish languages and religious practice underpin and nurture Jewish identity and motivate the teaching of Hebrew and Jewish culture to young children. Across all these narratives, we perceive the search by all writers to breach spiritual and language barriers by explaining and communicating with others. These narratives, like those before, contradict the negative notion that in multi-faith or multicultural societies social cohesion is advanced by denial of the particular beliefs and traditions of different groups. No one is without some grounding in some language or belief system, and hence

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

407

no space emptied of identity exists. Cohesion is best advanced by open positioning, good will, exchange and the continual effort which we must all make to learn and to teach. The focus turns to teaching in Chap. 5, where writers reflect Parker J. Palmer’s ideas on teacher spirituality as a conceptual frame to explore the inner life of teachers. Palmer’s analogy between teaching and hospitality motivates some of the concerns in this writing in accounts by Jianlian Liang, Mala Mehta, Melanie Brown, Mojgan Mokhatebi Ardakani and Zainab Rivzi, Trisha Watts and John Harris. The concepts and categories of teacher spirituality take us to subtle and supple reflections where language and spiritual life in educational contexts fuse. We hear about children’s experience of praying in Chinese in a bilingual Christian school, and founding missions for schools to teach Hindi and keep language and culture alive in a matrix informed by faith. We understand the effort of English speakers to study and master Arabic so that migrant young people, and others abroad, can be offered teaching and support to integrate and progress in society. We read about the multiple issues and challenges of founding an Islamic studies school whose medium of instruction is English. We share a moving personal transformation with the Taizé community in France, brought then to spirituality and meditation through singing in different languages in Australia. And finally we encounter the remarkable story of Nyoongar Bible translation with its deep and enduring impact on teaching and learning for Nyoongar leaders. Part One of the book shows Australia as a continent not only for geographers, as a continuous expanse of land, but a continent, or even a universe, of languages, scripts, cultural traditions, national experiences and ideas and faith. The chapters of Part Two are extended explorations of specific contexts of languages, religion and spirituality by Devrim Yilmaz, David Moore, Ghil’ad Zuckerman and James Forrest. Research- based, they analyse the teaching of Aboriginal spirituality through drumming, poetry and Gumbaynggirr language, the founding and formation of concepts and agreements about a multilingual church in Central Australia, the connections between language reclamation activity and Indigenous well-being and the revealing connections that census data expose between multilingualism and religion.

408 

J. Lo Bianco

Beyond these we see the remarkable passion which Father Shenouda Mansour and Ounas Gerges bring to revitalisation of Coptic as a community language and their successes in producing the first framework for its revitalisation. In the chapters which follow, diaspora groups and individuals struggling to maintain languages and faith experiences, are revealed in research within different communities by Lisa Gilanyi, Salai Biak Za Lian Ching, Alistair Welsh, and Ramon Lopez Castellano and Yining Wang and Ingrid Pillar. First, we encounter discussion of the experiences of two transnational sojourners, Anne, a Costa Rican and Fitri, a devout Muslim from Indonesia and their attitudes and ‘investment’ in language and faith. Then, from Chin State in Myanmar/Burma, we meet speakers of Hakha, the Chin people, a Melbourne Christian diaspora. Finally we engage with the Christian bilingual practices and hybrid identities deployed in support of integration of Chinese women, where Sydney churches supply practical support and new realities foster changes in belief. Zehavit Gross, Suzanne Rutland, Yona Gilead and Chantal Crozet complete the volume with reflections and analysis of spirituality, religious practice and knowledge. Gross and Rutland analyse a wellbeing longitudinal Hebrew study, while Gilead looks at a Jewish day school and student attitudes to Judaic studies and learning Modern Hebrew. As the final intersection of Language and Spirit, Crozet, an academic French language specialist, discusses her journey into and with Sanskrit in daily life, linked to ayurvedic health practice and yogic practices. Crozet reveals the academic challenges she has faced in her inclusion of Indian spiritual sources in scholarly writings.

Concluding Remarks The panorama of faith, spirituality, religion and languages discussed in this book is astonishing not simply because of the immense diversity it depicts and the subtle, moving and analytically robust ways in which it is discussed. What stands out most strongly to me, interacting with people dealing with similar issues in settings where conflict and violence accompany

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

409

such differences, is the mostly collaborative, peaceful and cohesive culture that surrounds difference in Australia. Essentially contemporary Australia enjoys the undeniable presence of powerful shared norms of exchange, civility, and an open deliberative culture of exploration. Within this however, there persist structural inequalities and injustices, especially for Indigenous Australians, and growing economic precarity and intergenerational loss of languages. These aspects of Australian civic life, embedded within broadly shared norms of problem solving, provide hope for reconciliation of differences and ongoing attention to problems. In the interactions needed to improve justice and bring about more equity, Australian public life needs to study and discuss language, faith and religion more. The mostly inclusive ethos that characterises Australia’s cultural diversity is not the magical outcome of any resource or inherent gift or moral character. Instead it has arisen out of long struggle for rights and creative participation in policy making. Demands for justice and for the right to recognition are always properly constrained by democratic deliberation and reciprocal acknowledgement of others’ claims. The present situation is the fruit of grassroots effort, as so many of the narratives in the volume prove, and affirmative and facilitative public policy. We can permit ourselves some optimism that with more determined effort we can craft the policies that are urgently needed in the future to recognise language rights, and cultural and faith expressions of our diverse society.

Note 1. In 1962 Tatmadaw seized power under General Ne Win, inaugurating harsh military rule which isolated and impoverished the country. Twenty-­ six years later student led protest, culminating on 8 August 1988 (the 8-8-88 Uprisings), forced him to abdicate, but the military seized power again. In the turmoil Suu Kyi, daughter of independence hero Aung San, emerged as the alternative, leading the National League for Democracy (NLD) to a large victory in 1990 general elections which the protests had forced the military to allow. Once again, however, Tatmadaw annulled the results, placed her under house arrest, and imposed authoritarian military rule for a further 22 years. The military cultivated as much ‘legitimacy’ as

410 

J. Lo Bianco

it could squeeze from any monastic orders willing to concede recognition, until in the Saffron Revolution of 2007, led by monks, violent repression was visited directly on the Buddhist clergy. Some monks and monasteries do support the conservative and ultra nationalist ethos pushed by the military which proclaims itself the sole guarantor of the Theravada legacy of the nation. After 2011 the country began the current, now thwarted transition to civilian rule and partial democracy. In 2015 elections Suu Kyi once again led NLD to a landslide victory, taking nearly all seats not reserved for the military (25% sufficient to prevent constitutional reform), a feat she repeated at the 8 November 2020 election.

References Arai, T. (2015). Toward a Buddhist Theory of Structural Peace: Lessons from Myanmar in Transition. Peace and Conflict Studies, 22(10), Article 3. Available at: https://nsuworks.nova.edu/pcs/vol22/iss1/3 Berkley Center for Religion, Peace & World Affairs. (2013, August). Mozambique: Religious Peacebuilders Broker End to Civil War. Georgetown University. Holland, T. (2019). Dominion: The Making of the Western Mind. Abacus. IMTD. (2018). Institute for Multi-track Diplomacy. http://imtd.org. and Diamond, L., & McDonald, J. (1996). Multi-Track Diplomacy: A Systems Approach to Peace. Kumarian Press. Lo Bianco, J. (2016a). Conflict, Language Rights, and Education: Building Peace by Solving Language Problems in Southeast Asia. Language Policy Research Network, Center for Applied Linguistics. Lo Bianco, J. (2016b, September). On Terrorism, Inclusion, Reconciliation and the Thai State. Prachatai English. Lo Bianco, J. (2016c). Malaysia Country Report: Language Education and Social Cohesion (LESC) Initiative. UNICEF East Asia and Pacific Regional Office. Lo Bianco, J. (2016d). Myanmar Country Report: Language, Education and Social Cohesion (LESC) Initiative. UNICEF East Asia and Pacific Regional Office. Lo Bianco, J. (2016e). Synthesis Report: Language Education and Social Cohesion (LESC) Initiative in Malaysia, Myanmar and Thailand. UNICEF. Lo Bianco, J. (2017). Resolving Ethnolinguistic Conflict in Multi-Ethnic Societies. Nature Human Behaviour. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41562-­ 017-­0085

17  Some Final Words on Languages and Religion: Peacebuilding… 

411

Lo Bianco, J. (2019). Uncompromising Talk, Linguistic Grievance, and Language Policy: Thailand’s Deep South Conflict Zone. In M.  Kelly, H.  Footitt, & M.  Salama-Carr (Eds.), Handbook on Languages at War (pp. 295–331). Palgrave Macmillan. Smock, D.  R. (Ed.). (2006). Religious Contributions to Peacemaking: When Religion Brings Peace, Not War (Peaceworks, US Institute of Peace). Nova Science Publishers. Times of India and BBC. (2021). https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-­ asia-­56356050. https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/world/rest-­of-­world/ shoot-­m e-­i nstead-­m yanmar-­n un-­p leads-­w ith-­j unta-­f orces/articleshow/81410487.cms. “Monks lead protests against Myanmar coup”. Archived from the original on 9 February 2021. Retrieved 9 March 2021. “The Masoyein Response”. Archived from the original on 9 March 2021. Retrieved 9 March 2021. “The Maha Gandayone Response”. Archived from the original on 9 March 2021. Retrieved 9 March 2021. “The Sitagu response”. Archived from the original on 9 March 2021. Retrieved 9 March 2021. “Report: Catholic nuns join protests against Burma’s military coup”. Archived from the original on 16 February 2021. Retrieved 9 March 2021. “Criticized, Myanmar’s Influential Monk Close to Coup Leader Breaks Silence on Killing Protesters”. Archived from the original on 7 March 2021. Retrieved 6 March 2021. https://www.ucanews. com/news/an-­urgent-­appeal-­f or-­peace-­and-­reconciliation-­in-­myanmar/ 91143# Tutu Foundation. (n.d.). http://www.tutufoundationusa.org. http://www.tutufoundationusa.org/2013/11/05/the-­father-­of-­peace-­research/

Index

A

Acquisition planning, 241 Adhesive identities, 318, 323 Adolescent students, 276, 331, 333 identity and socialisation, 351–371 Ahoy, Uncle Colin, 159 Albrecht, Pastor Friedrich Wilhelm, 184, 186–188, 190, 193 Alexander the Great, 242 Alice Springs Lutheran Church, 177, 179 Analysis of narrative, 269, 270 Anglican Church, 51 Antiochian Orthodox Church, 223 Armenia, 67, 68 Ashabul Kahfi Language School, 108 Assyrian Orthodox Church, 83, 85 Atweme, Drum, 156

Auburn Tamil Aalayam (Saturday Tamil Community Language School), 105 Australia, vii, 5, 39, 58, 81, 85–91, 94, 127, 177–195, 198, 206–211, 217–235, 237, 264, 287, 307, 353, 375, 393, 403–408 B

Baisden, Faith, 50 Bellwood Reserve, 29 Ben Yehuda, 116, 119–121, 245 Bhagavad Gita, 100, 101, 378, 382 Bible, 20, 32, 67, 71, 74, 81, 99, 100, 114, 116–119, 126, 128, 136, 144–152, 177, 178, 182, 187, 255, 256, 266, 297, 311, 315, 407

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 R. Moloney, S. Mansour (eds.), Language and Spirit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-93064-6

413

414 Index

Bo, Cardinal Charles Maung, 391 Board of Jewish Education, 116, 121 Bomaderry Aboriginal Children’s Home, 42 Buddha, 59, 62, 63, 65, 100 Butcher, Murray, 49 C

Caboolture, 19, 107 Cambodia, 143 Capital, 103, 133, 234n18, 267, 268, 270, 275, 278, 289, 301, 344, 385, 395 Catholic Education Office, 27, 39, 41 China, 59, 63, 65, 66, 100, 127, 206, 230, 272, 307, 308, 310–312, 317–319, 324n2 Collective drumming, 163–164 Collective poem writing, 164–166 Congregation of St Francis Xavier, 395 Coptic Orthodox Church, 5, 238, 242–244, 252 Corbett, Joanna, 147 Corpus planning, 241 Councillor, Charmaine, 150 Creative and body-based learning (CBL), 159 Culturally Responsive Teaching (CRP), 156, 157, 159, 172–173

David Wilkins, 45 Desmond Tutu Peace Foundation, 402 Dewey, John, 352–353 Dharug Ngurra Aboriginal Corporation, 47 Die Vereinigte Ev. Luth. Kirche in Australien (VELKA), 179, 183–185, 193n1 Dixon, Robert, 34 Dohae, 99 Douglas, Wilf, 147, 149, 150 Dreaming, 14, 30, 32, 43, 53, 202, 208 Dubbo, 18, 36–39, 404 E

Education, 23, 28, 71, 94, 126, 158, 199, 208, 246, 250, 267, 300, 312, 328, 352, 375, 400 socialisation of children, 352–354 Egypt, 23, 118, 237–239, 242–244, 255, 256 Ethnic community, 239, 322 F

Finke River Mission (FRM), 182, 187–191, 193 Former Yugoslavia, 18, 58, 78, 85–91 Free Wesleyan Church, 74

D

Dadd, Lexodious, 47 Darling River, 18, 49

G

Galtung, Johan, 398, 402, 403

 Index 

Garry Stoll, 184, 191, 195n47 Giacon, Brother John, 42 Gospel, 71, 72, 148–150, 182, 187 Greek Orthodox Church, 222, 228 Green, Richard, 45 Gribble, Ernest, 33, 34 Gumbaynggirr people, 30, 31, 167, 170 H

Heart Sutra, 58–61, 64 Hercus, Luise, 49 Hermannsburg, 179, 182, 184, 185, 187, 188, 190, 191, 195n47 Hermannsburg Mission, 179–182, 185, 187, 188, 191 Homebush Tamil Language School, 105 I

IABBV Hindi School, 94, 95, 98, 129 Identity, v, 3–25, 28, 67–69, 94, 126, 167, 189, 200, 218, 237, 264, 271–272, 287–306, 317, 328–331, 340–341, 351–371, 375, 392 Identity literacy, 329 Ideology, 5, 250, 266, 267, 270, 275, 277, 342 Imam Hasan Centre, 94, 111–112 Imam Mehdi Islamic School, 135, 138 Imam Mehdi Youth, 139

415

India, 59, 63, 95, 97, 98, 100, 111, 129–131, 222, 287–289, 377, 379–382, 395 Indigenous languages Arrarnta, 177–180, 191, 192 Barngarla, 20, 197, 207–211 Gumbaynggirr, 20, 28–32, 155, 156, 159, 166–172, 404, 407 Gunggay, 17, 28, 33–35, 404 Kaytetye, 181, 191, 192 Luritja, 177 Nyoongar, 20, 126, 144–152, 407 Pertame, 181, 191, 192 Pitjantjatjara, 177, 189 Indigenous peoples Anaiwan, 155 Barramatta, 44 Blue Mountains, 44 Bourke, 49 Bundjalung, 30 Buruberongal, 44 Cabogal, 44 Cairns, 32, 33 Camaraygal, 44 Coffs Harbour, 41 Darling River, 18, 49 Dharawal, 44 Dharug, 23, 44–46, 48, 404 Dubbo, 37, 38 Dunghutti, 155 Gadigal, 44 Gamilaraay, 39, 40, 155, 158 Gumbaynggirr, 17, 29–32, 42, 155, 167–171 Gwaegal, 44 Kamaygal, 44

416 Index

Indigenous peoples  (cont.) Moree, 36, 40 Nambucca Heads, 29, 167 Ngarigu, 45 Paakantyi, 18, 48–51 Wangal, 44 Wilcannia, 48–50 Wiradjuri, 4, 28, 36, 38, 404 Yarrabah, 35 Yuin, 42 Indo-Aust Bal Bharathi Vidyalaya Hindi School (IABBV), 94, 95, 98, 129–130 Indonesia, 20, 107–110, 223, 265, 270–272, 276, 408 Intergenerational transmission, 94, 241, 247, 249, 251–253 International Chinese Christian School, 127–129, 407 Ireland, 217, 222, 240, 246, 248, 250, 251, 253 J

Jesus, 11, 128, 148, 149, 184 Jewish studies engagement with Israel, 351, 352, 357, 358, 360–362, 365, 367 identity elements, 362, 366 Modern Hebrew, 116, 119, 351, 357, 361–365, 367, 368, 370, 408 John Gribble, 33, 34 Jones, Aunty Elsie, 18, 49 Jones, Julie, 45

K

Kenya, 111 Kinchela Boys Home, 42 Koin Takada, 60 L

Language and Culture Education (LCE), 375 Language ideologies, 179, 182–183, 235n30, 250, 266, 267 Languages Afrikaans, 226 ambiguity, 342, 343, 402 Arabic, 19, 23, 24, 84, 94, 106, 107, 109, 111, 112, 120, 126, 131–140, 223, 228, 238, 242, 256, 257, 265, 266, 272, 406, 407 Aramaic, 18, 58, 83–85, 114, 116, 117, 406 Armenian, 67–69, 405 attitudes towards acquisition, 334–337, 341 Australian English, 404 Awadhi, 98 Bangla, 98 being and, 8, 15, 36 Bengali, 95, 130, 230 Bible translations, 20, 126, 144–152, 182, 407 bilingualism, 203, 248, 399 Cantonese, 61, 230, 317 Chinese, 59, 63, 230, 232, 310, 317, 324n2 Coptic, 24, 237–259 Croatian, 86, 87, 90, 91

 Index 

Danish, 224, 226 defining, 137, 211, 292 Demotic, 242 Devanagari, 99, 100 Dutch, 224, 226 English, 19, 77, 101, 102, 111, 112, 122, 126, 137, 140, 179, 190, 266, 277, 289, 297, 310, 317, 368 Eora, 44 First Nations, 3, 5, 11, 41, 46, 144, 156, 157 French, 22, 83, 111, 129, 142, 143, 198, 224, 362, 377–379, 381, 382, 385, 408 Gaelic, 42, 246, 250–253 German, 22, 66, 88, 120, 181, 183, 184, 190, 192, 193, 194n10, 224 Greek, 23, 86, 222, 228, 242 Gujarati, 95, 98 Hakha Chin, 15, 287–306 Hebrew, 327–346, 351, 352, 354–356, 360–365, 367–370, 406, 408 Hindi, 18, 19, 22, 93, 95–100, 126, 129–131, 136, 406, 407 Hungarian, 18, 42, 87, 88, 226 ideology, defining, 250, 266 immersion programs, 241, 249, 251–253 individual identity and, 267, 289, 302, 328, 329 Indonesian, 19, 94, 106–111, 132, 223, 271, 272, 276–278

417

Italian, 86, 88, 89, 226, 228, 239 Japanese, 22, 59, 61 Kannada, 95 Konkani, 98 Korean, 77, 235n30 Kutchi, 111 Ladino, 120, 330 linguicide, 206, 208, 211 loss defining, 28, 29, 115, 144, 146, 200–202, 237, 409 youth suicide and, 205–206 maintenance of, 218, 223 Malay, 61, 110, 266, 401 management, defining, viii, 250 Mandarin, 61–63, 230, 231, 317 Marathi, 18, 93, 95–98, 406 Min Nam, 230 model of investment, 264, 267, 268, 275 Modern Hebrew, 21, 116, 119, 120, 351, 352, 354–357, 361–365, 367, 368, 370, 371, 408 multilingualism, 6, 20, 98–100, 187, 203, 204, 217–235, 317, 393, 398, 399, 403, 407 multilingual policy writing, 401 Nepali, 100–102 Niuean, 70–72 oral history, 45 Persian, 19, 94, 107, 135, 202, 228, 229 Portuguese, 83, 224 power of, 43, 46 practice, defined, 250, 256, 266 Punjabi, 129, 230

418 Index

Languages (cont.) revitalisation, 5, 18, 20, 23, 31, 40, 45, 47, 237–259, 408 revivalistics aesthetic reasons, 202–203 empowered spirit, 206–207 ethical reasons, 201 reclaiming dormant versions, 200–201 utilitarian benefits, 203–204 Russian, 12, 18, 58, 65–66, 142, 143, 186, 220, 226, 228 sacred texts, 10, 122, 297 Sanskrit, 18, 21, 59, 63, 93, 95–103, 223, 376, 377, 379–380, 382, 406, 408 Serbian, 87–90, 220, 228 Sinhala, 399 Sino-Japanese, 59, 61 Slovenian, 86, 90, 91 Spanish, 120, 142, 143, 224, 273, 274, 276, 277 Tamil, 18, 94, 103–106, 223, 230, 399, 406 Telugu, 95 Te Reo Maori, 41, 44, 248–250 Tetum, 132 Tongan, 72–75 transmigration and, 263, 264 Ukrainian, 78–80, 88 Urdu, 98, 106, 111, 112, 136–139, 230, 406 Vietnamese, 18, 58, 80–83 vitality, 8, 240, 249, 291, 292, 298–301, 303 Yaghan, 202 Yiddish, 19, 94, 112–116, 120, 122, 245, 246, 330, 406

Lindsay, Robert, 49 Little, Lorna, 147, 150 Little, Tom, 147, 150, 151 Lord’s Prayer, 148–150 M

Macro learning agents, 253, 254 Malbunka, Colin, 191, 192 Mata Amritanandamayi Ma, 378 Materne, Ernst Adolph August, 188, 189 Menindee Central School, 48–50 Micro-learning agents, 253 Migration, 12, 18, 57, 70, 79, 86, 87, 95, 108, 111, 187, 218, 246, 248, 263, 264, 266, 267, 278, 280, 288, 307, 310–316, 321, 393, 406 Min Aung Hlaing, General, 394 Minimbah Aboriginal School, 155, 160, 172, 173 Morelli, Brother Steve, 29, 42 Mozambique, 396 Multilingualism, 6, 20, 98–100, 187, 203, 204, 217–235, 317, 393, 398, 399, 403, 407 Muurrbay Language Centre, 29 Myanmar, 106, 287, 290, 391, 394, 395, 399–401, 408 N

Nan Tien Temple, 61, 62 Narrative analysis, 269 Nash, David, 45

 Index 

National Institute of Education (Sri Lanka), 399 Negative peace, 398, 402 Nepal, 100–102, 230 Nepalese Hindu Society of Australia (NHSA), 18, 93, 100, 102 Neuendettelsau mission, 182, 183, 185 New Zealand, 41, 44, 70, 71, 127, 157, 206, 233, 248–250, 287 Nikāya, Shwekyin, 395 Niue, 18, 58, 70, 405 NSW Aboriginal Education Consultative Group, 50 Nu Tawng, Sister Ann Rose, 395

419

Pope Shenouda III Coptic Theological College, 238, 256 Positioning theory, 291 Positive peace, 398, 402–403 Prayers, 12, 58, 68, 73, 79, 81, 94, 96, 97, 99, 100, 106, 107, 112, 114–118, 129, 142, 143, 148–150, 187, 237, 266, 274, 277, 297, 311, 318, 327, 328, 330, 332–334, 337–339, 344–346, 355, 356, 360, 361, 364, 367, 369, 391, 395 Presbyterian Church, 21, 226 Public debate, 392 religious interventions, 392, 396

O

One Family Church, 77 Oppliger, Amanda, 45

Q

Quran, 106–108, 111, 112, 134, 137–139

P

Parenting, 308–310, 320, 321, 323 Participatory Indigenist Research (PIR), 156, 159, 160, 162, 172 Peacebuilding, 391–410 Peace processes, 402 Pentecostal Church, 226 Pfitzner, Pastor John, 190 Philosophy, 21, 60, 131, 158, 183, 242, 249, 333, 353, 375–382, 385, 393 Picenti Rizkalla Gerges, 255 Political community, 239

R

Ramayana, 100, 378 Reclamation, 17, 20, 45, 197–212, 407 Reformed Church, 226 Refugee advocacy, 396 Reinvigoration, 197–199, 223 Religion Anglican, 33, 34, 51, 52, 76, 89, 136, 147, 223 Assyrian Orthodox, 18, 58, 83–85 Baha’i, 228, 229, 336

420 Index

Religion (cont.) Buddhism, 57–91, 223, 228, 230, 307, 315, 324n2, 336 Christianity, 5, 57–91, 151, 192, 265, 266, 288, 290, 297, 302–304, 307–310, 315, 320, 321, 324n2, 326, 382, 384 coming out, 52, 376, 380–384 Coptic Orthodox, 5, 23, 238, 242–244, 252 Greek Orthodox, 86, 220, 222, 228 Islam, 74, 93–123, 132, 133, 137, 138, 140, 141, 223, 228–230, 265, 266, 272, 275, 336, 406 Judaism, 18, 93–123, 220, 223, 327–346, 352, 354–359, 362, 364, 365, 367, 369, 371, 406 Lutheranism, 179, 182, 187, 405 Macedonian Orthodox, 88, 220 Maronite Catholicism, 220, 228 model of investment, 264, 267, 268, 275 Mormonism, vii, 220 Pentecostals, 220, 226, 310, 318, 324n3 prayer and, 94, 116, 187, 330 Protestantism, 82, 88, 222 Russian Orthodox, 12, 18, 58, 65–66, 220, 228, 405 secularisation of Australian society, 378 secularism, 383, 392, 400

Serbian Orthodox, 87, 89, 90, 220 Seventh Day Adventist, 136, 220 Sikhism, 220, 223, 230 spirituality, v, 3–25, 43, 57, 65–66, 85, 98–100, 126, 155–173, 206, 299, 307, 327–346, 355, 371, 375–386, 402 Taoism, 307, 315 Vedic, 101 wellbeing and, 3, 197–212, 336, 338 Revitalization, 33, 116, 197–199, 252, 257 Revivalistics, 197–201, 204, 206, 208, 211 Riddim and Poetry Cycle (RPC), 160–162, 164, 166 Riddim and Poetry school program, 155–173 Russian Orthodox, 12, 18, 58, 65–66, 220, 228, 405 S

Sabbath, 74, 113, 117, 327, 356 St Cyril’s Coptic Orthodox Theological College, 238 Saiva School, 105 San Suu Kyi, 394 Secular societies, 220, 246, 298, 322 inclusive of religion and non-­ religion, 392 Serbian Orthodox, 87, 89, 90, 220 Shabad, 99

 Index 

Shia Muslim Saturday School, 136, 141 Shloka, 95, 96, 99, 100 Shruti, 100, 101 Sitagu International Buddhist Academy, 394 Smriti, 100, 101 Social cohesion, 24, 223n3, 324, 398, 399, 401, 406 South Korea, 75, 76, 406 South Thailand, 399–401 Special Religious Education (SRE) classes, 335–338, 345 Speech community, 239, 246, 290–291, 296, 298–301, 303 Spirituality, vi–viii, 3–25, 43, 57, 58, 65–66, 85, 95, 97–101, 113, 115, 122, 123, 126, 128, 144, 155–173, 206, 208, 299, 307, 309, 327–346, 355, 371, 375–386, 402, 403, 407, 408 Sri Lanka, 18, 93, 103–106, 222, 223, 230, 399–401, 406 Status planning, 241 Steele, Jeremy, 45 Stolen Generation, 18, 42, 207, 211, 404 Stolz, Johannes, 189 Strehlow, Carl, 182, 185, 186, 188, 191, 194n20 Sutra, 58–61, 63, 64 Synagogues, 118, 246

421

T

Taizé, 12, 19, 126, 142–144, 407 Talmud, 118 TGH Strehlow, 186, 188, 191 Thailand, 206, 399–401 Tjalkabota, Moses, 191 Tobin, Jacinta, 45 Tonga, 70, 73, 74, 405 Torah, 118, 119, 122, 123, 246, 359 Transcendental Meditation Movement, 378 Transmigration, 263, 264 Transnational sojourners, 20, 263–280, 408 Troy, Jakelin, 45 U

Ukraine, 78–80, 406 Ukrainian Catholic Church, 79 United Evangelical Lutheran Church in Australia (UELCA), 183–185, 189, 193, 193n1 Uniting Church, 70, 72, 89, 90, 222, 231 Upanishads, 100, 101, 378 V

Vedas, 100–102, 131 Vietnam, 80–82, 406 W

Wallam, Pastor Len, 147–150 Watson, Aunty Edna, 45 Weil, Simone, 382

422 Index

Widders, Uncle Steve, 160 Wilcannia, 48–50 Word, 11, 17, 21, 31, 35, 38–40, 43, 46, 47, 50, 55, 59, 63, 68, 77, 81, 97, 98, 100, 107, 112, 113, 117–119, 122, 128, 146, 151, 165, 170, 179, 181, 184, 186, 191, 202, 207, 242, 319, 341, 361, 364 Words of our Country, 34

Y

Yarrabah State School, 17, 32, 33, 404 Yellomundee Living Culture Camp, 47 Yogi, Maharishi Mahesh, 378 Z

Ziersch, Rex, 191, 195n47