Can you lose your mother tongue? For many children of immigrant origin in Quebec, French takes over in their daily lives, and they become passive bilinguals — that is, they can understand their parents’ language without being able to talk. The duty presents the portraits of citizens who wanted to reclaim it. Today: the journey of Alexandre Nequado, from the Atikamekw community of Manawan.
All Indigenous languages spoken in Canada are considered at risk and categorized as Vulnerable, Endangered, Seriously Endangered or Critically Endangered, according to the United Nations Atlas of the World’s Languages in Danger. United for Education, Science and Culture (UNESCO).
This reality, Alexandre Nequado knows it. Now 34 years old, he remembers his childhood in Manawan, then his move to Trois-Rivières in 3e primary year. It was then that he began to break away from his mother tongue, Atikamekw, to quickly adopt French.
“I had become a little francophone. Young people made fun of me because I had a Quebec accent when I spoke in Atikamekw,” he said in an interview with The duty.
In adolescence, this fracture became even more important. It is normally at this age that young Atikamekw begin to learn the “language of the territory”, ie a more advanced level. “That, I’ve never had,” laments Alexandre.
It was not until the age of 25 that a professional opportunity completely changed his relationship to Atikamekw.
Relearning to translate
In 2015, a friend approached her to offer her a translation contract. She had heard that a television program was looking for someone to translate a segment from Atikamekw into French.
At first glance, Alexandre did not feel confident enough to accept the offer. “But since it was paying, I told myself that I was going to try,” he admits.
From then on, he started to interact with the elders of his community again, to relearn how to speak. “I started asking questions, asking how certain words were said. And if the word didn’t exist, I asked how we could invent it in Atikamekw,” he says.
Invent, because Atikamekw, like the other Algonquin or Anishinabe dialects, is very colorful. For example, the word ” kokokoho to designate an owl, refers to its cry.
Over the years of working in translation, Alexandre learns to rediscover his mother tongue in a new light. “Before, I thought there was always an Atikamekw word for every French word. I have a much more colorful vision of my language today,” he says.
Work for the next generation
Today, Alexandre continues to translate, in addition to doing narration and voice over for various television series on the APTN channel. But the one who will soon become a father has given himself an additional mission: to create content in Atikamekw for the next generation.
“I would like my child to be able to hear Atikamekw from an early age. Since I live in town [à Montréal], I know the exposure to the language is going to be difficult, he’s going to have to go out into the community to hear it. »
“If I have no choice, I will create the content myself. It could be little nursery rhymes, or just words from the forest, animals… All that, we don’t have that online,” he says.
The lack of online Atikamekw resources can be explained in particular by the small pool of people qualified — and at ease — to produce content. Like Alexander when he was younger, many young people in the community do not have sufficient language proficiency to create material.
Beyond content for children, the young indigenous leader does not close the door to the idea of translating content for his entire community, such as songs, legends or even motivational videos. Raising awareness of the culture and safeguarding the Atikamekw is today a mission that he proudly carries “in his heart”.