Language Matters: Development and Education in Senegal

By Andrea Shields

As a student in pursuit of a Master’s of Arts in Teaching, in addition to content area courses, required courses include methodology, literacy, educating students with disabilities, and one devoted to teaching the growing population of English Language Learners in the United States. The latter course, focused on methods of teaching foreign language, highlights the necessity of valuing a student’s native language and continuing to develop it, while simultaneously working toward a mastery of the English language to ensure academic success. Research on literacy shows that students who learn to read in their native spoken language first (L1) are able to transfer that knowledge to their second language (L2) with greater ease. For example, if a student already understands geometry or life science in their native language, new knowledge is not required, only the language necessary to express it in the L2 (Wright 96).

As I work my way through these courses, I’ve reflected a great deal on my own personal experience as an expatriate, having watched my three children at various ages learn a foreign language. In their case, they were not ELLs, but benefitted from FLE or français langue étrangère – French as a foreign language – during our 15-month stay in a suburb of Paris. Experientially, the data proved true. Our children, then twelve, nine and five years old were able to learn French in an immersive context, and emerge from their FLE programs less than a year later. What is more, they emerged being able to learn new content in French due to the transfer of skills from English to French. (The five year old was only a pre-reader at that point in time. Her story of learning to read and study is a bit different, but that’s for another day.) 

In 2015, we moved from France to Senegal, West Africa, where we settled in the city of Thiès, approximately 75 kilometers east of the capital, Dakar. Several factors immediately struck me about our new surroundings. One of the first waves of culture shock began when I realized how few people, especially women, spoke French; not just a little French, but any French. Wasn’t Senegal considered a francophone country? Having just spent two years intensely learning the language with the goal of working in Senegal, I wondered why I’d studied so hard. French was declared the official language of the country at the time of independence, it continues to be used in government and official capacities, and is also the language of education on every level, so why did so few people speak it?

As I continued to settle in and observe, other startling factors struck me: the widespread level of poverty, the below-grade-level quality of French used by primary and secondary school students; the prevalence of the Wolof language even among those of other ethnicities; countless boys begging on the streets supposedly receiving a high level of religious education; and the high dropout rate of students, especially girls. These factors left me wondering why. Colonial history is common knowledge, but could it still be impacting a nation working so hard to develop nearly sixty years after declaring independence? What was hindering the country’s growth?

Imagine my delight when I learned of President Macky Sall’s program entitled “Sénégal Émergent” (Emerging Senegal), which seeks to end poverty and propel Senegal into the future through the development of the economy, human capital, and good governance by the year 2035 (http://www.presidence.sn/pse). Much is said in the initiative about improving education, but in order to find anything about using national languages, one has to dig deep. Instead of focusing on statewide literacy by providing primary school education in national languages, the government is choosing to focus on programs that promote teacher training and competence, improve school infrastructure, and modernize daaras, religious schools known for the neglect and abuse of boys.  Based on the language of the initiatives, it would seem that there is a hesitancy to consider adding the use of national languages to education policy. A few small scale pilot projects have been undertaken by NGOs in cities with positive results, but so far, no initiatives on a national scale have yet been proposed. Granted, the country recognizes no less than six codified languages in Senegal as national languages, yet, in spite of the aforementioned research-based findings of literacy success being tied to native language, little capital is devoted to promoting mother tongue use in schools.

Senegal’s second  president, Abdou Diouf (1981-2000) understood the necessity of primary education in native languages. According to an article by Omar Ka in 1993, Diouf’s Minister of Education announced that national education should become “Senegalese” through the use of national languages in order to recover cultural identity and to better direct education and training structures toward development of the country. He did not state that French should be overlooked altogether, but that “the educational system should be bilingual, and French should be considered as a foreign and second language” (Ka). This statement addresses the fact that cultural relevance also has an impact on literacy. According to an educational hypothesis by Stephen Krashen in the 1980s, language learners have what is called an affective filter which controls how much comprehensible input reaches the learner.  In his words, “Even though the student is exposed to input, anxiety, low self-esteem, or a sense that he or she is not a potential member of the group that speaks the language – the affective filter – will keep it out (qtd. in Wright 54; italics mine). Therefore, because a student does not identify with the culture of the French language, their success in acquiring it will be diminished. This, coupled with the L1 barrier, does not predict a bright future for Senegalese students required to learn exclusively in the language of their former colonizers. 

With 25.48% of the national budget being designated for education and an additional several million euros received from France (Mbaye), Senegal seems to be serious about improving the state of education, but are the funds being allocated to literacy? What has caused the government to abandon the interest in national language literacy which began as early as the 1970s and 80s?

It would seem to me that Senegal is caught in an identity crisis. If French continues to be mandated as the language of education, and therefore the language of the privileged elite, the majority of the population (40% of which is under 20 years of age) will remain on the fringes of society. This will therefore prevent them from participating in the development efforts proposed by Sall that promote academic success in science, mathematics and technology. Those who hold that French should continue to dominate could be viewed as hegemonic, and desirous to assimilate European culture, ideas, and secularism into the fabric of Senegal. These European ideals often contrast with traditional African values, including those held by the 90% Muslim majority which is influential in the political arena. In addition, given the number of recognized African languages with national language status, how does the government maintain peace when prioritizing Wolof as the language of instruction in spite of the fact that 80% of the population speaks it?

Strides are being made in developing this relatively young country, yet I wonder, could greater growth happen if the majority of the general public were educated beyond primary school? Based on the success of the handful of first language initiatives which resulted in increased literacy (USAID), wouldn’t the country do better to first solidify their language policy and invest in first language materials and training? 

If independence, decolonization and development are truly the goals, then native languages will play an important role. Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiong’o in his book entitled Decolonising the Mind: the Politics of Language in African Literature, said: “A democratic participation of the people in the shaping of their own lives or in discussing their own lives in languages that allow for mutual comprehension is seen as being dangerous to the good government of a country and its institutions. African languages addressing themselves to the lives of the people become the enemy of a neo-colonial state.” 

Who will advocate for native language instruction in schools if the people themselves can’t understand the challenges they face? Who will fight for the equality of the underprivileged if  the policy makers ignore the data?

References

http://www.presidence.sn/pse. n.d. online. 15 April 2020.

Ka, Omar. “Senegalese languages in education: The First Congress of Wolof.” Fishman, Joshua A. The Earliest Stage of Language Planning: “The First Congress Phenomenon”. Vol. 65. Mouton DeGruyter, 1993. 305-320. eBook. 13 April 2020.

Mbaye, Aliou. EURACTIV.com. 2 February 2018. News Article. 15 April 2020.

Tamba, Jean-Matthieu III. Senegal Children Face Modern-Day Slavery. 1 September 2014. online. 28 April 2020. <https://www.aljazeera.com/news/africa/2014/08/children-senegal-africa-modern-slaves-beggars-islam-alm-2014821114722759241.html>.

Thiong’o, Ngugi wa. Decolonising the Mind: Politics of Language in African Literature. London, Nairobi, Portsmouth: James Currey Ltd / Heinemann, 1986. online.

USAID. Report on Language of Instruction in Senegal. Data for Education Research and Programming (DERP) in Africa. Washington, DC: RTI International, 2015. online.

Warner, Tobias. The tongue-tied imagination: decolonizing literary modernity in Senegal. New York: Fordham University Press, 2019. Print.Wright, Wayne E. Foundations for Teaching English Language Learners: Research, Theory, Policy, and Practice. Philadelphia: Calson, Inc., 2019.

Between the lines : The dialogue of Portrait de la jeune fille en feu

By Yichen Zhang

Vous savez nager ?

Je ne sais pas.

C’est trop dangereux si vous ne savez pas nager.

Je voulais dire : je ne sais pas si je sais nager.

Portrait de la jeune fille en feu (English translation: Portrait of a Young Lady on Fire) is a French historical drama film written and directed by Céline Sciamma. The film won the Queer Palm at Cannes in 2019, becoming the first film directed by a woman to win the award. The story happens on an isolated island in Brittany at the end of the eighteenth century. A female painter, Marianne is commissioned to paint a wedding portrait of a young woman, Héloïse. Since Héloïse is reluctant to wed the Milanese nobleman who had previously been engaged to her deceased sister, Marianne has to pretend to be her walk companion and paint her in secret. 

A lot of elements in this movie are praiseworthy, e.g. the casting, the lighting, the music, the painting. However, the dialogue in this movie, though it may seem simplistic, is equally thought-provoking. According to the director herself, she has paid attention to the dialogue among the four characters in order to bring a harmonious atmosphere, a true equality that transcends the hierarchy of social stratification and suppressive patriarchy. 

 It is also worth mentioning that Portrait has won the Best Foreign Language Film in Florida Film Critics Circle, New York Film Critics Online, London Film Critics Circle, etc. As a result, the English translation of the subtitle has played a crucial role in the circulation abroad of the movie.

    As an experienced documentary director, Sciamma is good at making the scene and the images narrate the story. As a result, there are few emotional fluctuations in the dialogue. The characters remain restrained most of the time, but the tension is still manifested between the lines. I will select examples from two points of entry and evaluate how the English subtitles approach these moments, which are challenging to translate but important for understanding the relationships among characters.

    1 The terms of respect and the Freudian slip. In French, the pronouns “vous” and “tu” provide us a method to observe the relationship between the interlocutors, which is subtle but precise. “Vous” is a respectful form of address, often used among strangers and among people with a big age difference or a discrepancy of social status. Meanwhile, “tu” is used among friends and family members or when talking to a child or someone with lower social status, and can be construed as either inviting intimacy or asserting dominance, depending on the circumstances. In Portrait, the situation gets more complicated – even the most intimate people address each other by “vous”: the daughter and the mother, two lovers, etc., which manifests the oppressive social expectations placed on women in 18^th century France (other evidences are being sent to a convent and arranged marriage). Nevertheless, there are 3 exceptions in the movie when the protagonists shift to “tutoyer,” which merit our contemplation. The first one:

    Héloïse : (à sa mère) Qu’est-ce que cela change pour vous ?

    La mère : Je pars cinq jours, quand je rentre, le tableau est fini. C’est moi qui le décide, pas vous. Compris ? Dis-moi au revoir comme quand tu étais petite.

    This scene happens after Marianne destroys her first painting and before Héloïse’s mom leaves. The mother occupies a superior position till she says goodbye to her daughter. This “tu” reveals the mother’s love for her daughter, which has been unpolished by the hierarchy system of that society.

    Between Marianne and Héloïse, “vous” is predominant even after their relationship becomes intimate. However, the night before Héloïse’s mom comes back, Marianne eagerly wants the night to last longer, and she finally addresses her lover by “tu”:

    Marianne : Ne dors pas, ne dors pas.

    Here we can see that the switch to “tu” symbolizes the growing closeness and affection between Marianne et Héloïse. But the precious moment does not last more than 3 seconds. When Héloïse says that she feels regret, Marianne immediately restrains herself again and says:

    Ne regrettez pas.

    This detail depicts the image of Marianne vividly. She falls in love with Héloïse, but she dares not to make a substantial move about it. Maybe because of her fear, indecision and lack of confidence? Maybe because of her previous life experience tells her even she makes an effort, it will be vain in the end? It is the audience’s turn to ponder over it.

    The last “tu” is also the last word Héloïse says to Marianne. Before Marianne leaves, Héloïse, wearing her wedding gown, calls Marianne from behind: Tourne-toi. Quoting from the story of Eurydice and Orpheus is a symbol of her bold love confession to Marianne as well as her deep despair to face a similar fate as Eurydice. The result: Marianne turns around, only to see Héloïse disappear in the darkness. 

2 “Jeu de mots”

Sciamma has tried to make her characters to “speak less, say more,” which requires the strength of language. In order to deepen and widen the echoes of each phrase, some words carry double meanings. Here is one example: 

    Héloïse : Ça fait les années que je voulais faire ça.

    Marianne: Mourir?

    Héloïse: Courir.

    This reminds me of a French saying: il n’y a que trois choses dans la vie : nourrir, courir et mourir. In other words, life contains 3 levels: nourishment is the first and most basic level of human needs and desires; the second level is being proactive, chasing dreams, making a change; the top level is death, where death is the true and ultimate meaning of life, and learning how to die is the mandatory course for every human being. Heidegger proposes “being towards death”; Morgan Scott Peck, an army therapist, said in his book The Road Less Travelled, “it is death that provides life with all its meaning, and death is the central religion of all wisdom.” 

    Also, this dialogue may be interpreted in another way. Marianne is worried that Héloïse will choose to end her life just like her sister did, but Héloïse’s response signifies that she is not done trying, not yet.

    Another wordplay can be considered a recreation of the proverb “Savoir, c’est pouvoir”. In French, “savoir” can mean “know” as well as “can” or “be able to.” The French original lines are in the epigraph under the title; here is the English translation: 

    Marianne: Do you swim?

    Héloïse: I don’t know.

    Marianne: It’s too dangerous if you don’t.

    Héloïse: I meant, I don’t know if I can swim.

    Marianne assumes the “savoir” means “can” while Héloïse means “know.” Héloïse just gets out of a convent, a routine life in a semi-isolation, and gets pushed immediately into another life which is totally arranged by her mother. As a young girl who just gets access to the outside world, she is ignorant of so many things, like how to swim or how dangerous the sea can be, but she is also curious and brave: she is exploring the world and she is willing to try brand new things. Normally, if one never learns swimming and is asked whether (s)he can swim, one would probably answer no. But our heroine says, I’m not sure, maybe I can. 

    This small and unharmful misunderstanding happens during their first promenade – they don’t know each other that well. The second time when they talk about the same issue, Marianne already uses “savoir” in Héloïse’s way.

    3 About the English subtitle translation

Given that there is a time and word limit of subtitles in every frame, the guest – subtitle – must not usurp the role of the host – scenario. Therefore, some lines are untranslatable. For example, in the English translation, the nuance between the “tu” and “vous” is completely gone due to the lack of equivalence in English. However, I suggest other ways to remedy the loss:

1. add “Madam” and “Miss” or “Mother” and “Daughter” in the beginning or at the end of sentences originally using “vous”; 
2. use “please” in phrases with “vous”, or other more polite but political manners of speaking;
3. translate the sentences with “vous” into more formal and relatively antiquated English (e.g. with “shall”, etc.) while the sentences with “tu” into more conversational English, etc. 

And for the rhyming part, the English subtitle uses “running” and “dying” as a last resort to “courir” and “mourir”, which appears to be reasonable and adequate.

    Admittedly, Portrait is a “quiet” movie, no matter in the front of background music or the characters’ dialogues. However, the simple, seemingly monotone words still contain much power. Chewing on them makes the characters in it more tangible. 

Verlan: Le céfran de la résistance marginale

Matt Pinto

Jourban ! Savez-vous verlaniser ? Le verlan, qui vient directement du verlan du mot « l’envers », est un phénomène linguistique qui ne cesse jamais de tirer l’attention des linguistiques. Le verlan est un type d’argot oral qui consiste à mettre, et puis à dire, les mots à l’envers. Autrement dit, on inverse les syllabes et parfois les lettres. Le verlan est caractérisé par sa composition de français contemporain des cités (FCC) et d’aussi ses emprunts arabes. De nos jours, le verlan s’emploie dans l’art, le cinéma, la télévision et la littérature. Il est transmis de génération en génération. Le langage est devenu si populaire par tout le monde à tel point que de nombreuxses mots tels que meuf, keuf, keum, zarbi pour mec, flic, femme, bizarre, etc. ont été ajoutés aux dictionnaires français et à la langue moderne.  

Verlanisation 

Avant de passer à un nouveau mot en verlan, les mots se verlanisent, ce qui fait référence au processus de réarranger les syllabes. Pourtant, en tant que langue orale, la formation du verlan est compliquée et favorise majoritairement la phonétique. Par conséquent, il y a de nombreuses exceptions. La seule étape qui est toujours présente dans chaque mot est l’inversion. La verlanisation se fait par l’inversion de l’ordre des syllabes. Par exemple: « bizarre [bi-zar] » devient « zarbi [zar-bi] » (L’alphabet phonétique nous guide mieux). Ainsi, « laisse tomber [lɛs-tõ-be] » se transforme en « laisse béton [lɛs-be-tõ] ». Voici d’autres exemples :

• Une femme → fa + me → me+f
  • verlan = une meuf
• Laisse tomber → ton + bé → bé+ton
  • verlan = laisse béton
• Un flic → fli + que → que + f
  • verlan = un keuf
• La cité → ci-té
  • verlan = la té-ci
• Maestro → mae-stro
  • verlan = Stromae
• Un arabe → ara + be → be + r
  • verlan = un beur (jeune d’origine maghrébine né en France)
• Louche → lou-che
  • verlan = chelou
• Un moustique → mou + stique → stique + mou
  • verlan = Un stiquemou
• Physique → phy + sique → zik + phy
  • verlan = zikphy
• Bizarre → bi + zarre → zar + bi
  • verlan = zarbi

L’identité

Le verlan se pose un marqueur social pour les gens. De génération en génération, les jeunes marginaux resse sentent le sentiment fort de se rebeller contre l’autorité particulièrement ceux qui s’en sentent exclus. Le langage contribue à un code secret pour parler exclusivement entre jeunes (plus commun) et des adultes. Ce sontC’est le plus fréquent chez les personnes dans les communautés défavorisés et les adolescents des familles immigrées qui l’utilise le plus fréquemment. Typiquement, ces personnes se sentent exclus par leurs deux pays et ne se sentent pas complètement liés ni à une identité française ni à une identité de leur patrimoine. Pourtant, ils trouvent une nouvelle identité grâce au langage. 

La composition du verlan est diverse. Il inclut quelques mots/expressions dérivées des variétés de l’arabe d’Afrique du Nord et des, langues d’Afrique subsaharienne et gitanes. C’est la raison pour laquelle le verlan est véritablement associé à l’identité de la génération jeune et prioritairement des jeunes descendants des immigrés. Les jeunes parlent cette forme de l’argot pour communiquer entre eux sans être compris par les autres personnes. C’est véritablement « un art de parler ». Ces gens s’exprimant enévoquent le verlan prennent une identité unique et rebelle. Ces locuteurs résistent les autorités. 

La langue ou le langage est bien une médiation politique qui exprime l’appartenance sociale à un territoire. Le verlan a plusieurs interprétations parmi les classes sociales.  Le langage est considéré « cool » par la classe haute dans les banlieues parisiennes. C’est là où la langue standard peut-être se servir d’un véhicule pourde mépriser à la classe inférieure. Au contraire, le verlan se sertve d’une façon de cacher par l’autorité et de vivre facilement sans souci. Cela compris, c’est facile de comprendre la citation de Bernard Lamizet: « Le langage est bien, en ce sens, une institution : une médiation symbolique de l’appartenance sociale. » Deans cette façon, le langage se sertve de marqueur de classe sociale. 

À cause de cette division sociétale, le langage doit toujours se moderniser pour protéger la communication entre locuteurs ou locutrices. En fait, les mots populaires et majoritairement compris par tous les Français deviennent re-verlanisés : par exemple, un beur (fr: un arabe) est modifié en un rebeu. Un autre exemple de re-verlanisation est « le feuk » (la police). Il est dérivé du mot argotique, flic. Le mot a attiré plus d’attraction à cause de sa semblance auà le mot vulgaire « fuck » en anglais. 

Les ouvrages cités

Bagheri, Tahereh Khameneh. “Etude Sur La Formation Du Verlan Dans La Langue Française.” Université Ferdowsi de Machhad, 5 Feb. 2009.

Lamizet, Bernard. « Y a-t-il un « parler jeune » ? », Cahiers de sociolinguistique, vol. 9, no. 1, 2004, pp. 75-98.

Goudaillier, Jean-Pierre. « Contemporary french in low-income neighborhoods : language in the mirror, language of refusal », Adolescence, vol. hs 1, no. 5, 2011, pp. 183-188.

ThoughtCo. “Verlan – French Slang.” ThoughtCo, Feb. 11, 2020, thoughtco.com/verlan-vocabulary-1371433.

The Internet and minority languages across Europe

By Violeta Arteaga

As technology keeps on improving around the world, so is the access to language specific content. More so now than ever, people have more exposure to many languages with the help of the internet. But how does the internet impact minority languages in Europe? 

Europe is a diverse continent with many countries and languages. Sadly, many languages that have been spoken for hundreds of years are fading out or did so already. The languages that are less widely spoken today need to be protected, both to preserve the use of the languages themselves and to protect the rights of the people who speak it maternally. The Lithuanian language is one of the oldest languages spoken for thousands of years. In the year 2000, Lithuania’s population was at 3.5 million. With the population dropping, today the current population stands at 2.7 million. The perfect example of protecting the rights of minority language speakers lies in Poland where there is a large Lithuanian minority population. In protecting the language of this minority group, it is important to preserve the language of this declining population but also to help the language to thrive for the Lithuanian people living in Poland as well as their right for their access to education, media and public services in their language. That is where the creation of the European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages comes into play. This Charter was signed in 1992 and contains a list of 23 articles that support 79 minority languages spoken in 203 linguistic groups. The target areas in the charter are those of education, law, public and private life, media, and some others. Besides providing these rights, the Charter supports its original goal of promoting multilingualism in European countries by helping to maintain the minority languages. 

Considering the total number of minority groups in Europe are over 400 in which only a portion are included in the Charter. So you might ask, “How do you know if a country is included in the Charter?” The answer is all dependent on whether a country decides to sign and ratify the Charter. For example, Lithuania did not sign and ratify it, which does not protect their Russian and Polish minority groups. In occurrences such as this, it is up to the nation to protect those people’s rights. Thanks to Lithuania’s laws, these minorities in Lithuania have access to education, television, news, church, etc in their native language. France, who also has not ratified the Charter yet, put their efforts in creating a radio station for minority languages such as Provençal, Basque and Breton.

The rapid growth of the internet is important in revitalizing the minority languages. It’s easy for a minority language to become overlooked and less significant in comparison to the majority language. New technology makes language more accessible. It makes it possible for those who live in a scattered geographical area to communicate in the language of their desire. The internet allows those people to access the media in their language such as radio, television and the news. The media that is produced and consumed by the language minorities is usually created by some non-profit profit practices and can also be publicly-funded. When groups of people do not get enough exposure to their own language, the language use tends to decrease. In a recent article, Maggie Glass and Guillem Belmar explain that “In fact, many have argued that if minority languages are to survive in the long run they need to achieve a significant presence online.” They go on to explain the importance of this digital presence in raising linguistic diversity in order to create a “modern” image of the minority language. As more and more languages enter the world of the internet, there are more opportunities for languages to become more alive and more widespread in minority language communities. The popularly used social media platform created in Russia, Vkontakte; is also widely used among the Russian minority in Lithuania. A preference for minority groups using social media is to communicate with their native language. This platform provides a place for the Russian minority in Lithuania to freely use the Russian language. 

In terms of accessing the internet, a major obstacle lies with the fact that many browsers are not available in many minority languages. Out of all the approximately 7000 languages in the world, only 500 are available as language options in web browsers. The languages that do not have access to the internet at all are being looked down as “not good enough” to make it to the internet. This makes it evident that these minority language speakers do not have high confidence in themselves or in their language as a result of being prevented  from using it in public or using it at all. Sadly enough, that’s all it takes for a language to become extinct. When a language has access to the internet, this at least makes it possible for it to survive and thrive.

No matter the cause of the formation or location of minority groups, the hope that they will be accepted and welcomed. The truth is, many minority groups are being excluded from having access to media in their language and discouraged from speaking their own language. CNN has reported that there are approximately 40% of languages spoken worldwide that are considered as endangered and are going extinct every year. Fortunately, some states take it upon themselves to include their minorities. Others do not choose to. Without the EU Charter, more minority groups would be on their way to an end. The importance of the internet and social media lies within its ability to help keep these minority languages going strong for years to come by directing their efforts into making the internet more inclusive of minority languages. In increasing the availability of minority languages on the internet, especially social media sites, it opens up more opportunities for minority groups to be able to use their own language.

Bibliography

https://horizon.scienceblog.com/617/the-internet-is-helping-to-revive-minority-languages/

“European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages.” Treaty Office, www.coe.int/en/web/conventions/full-list/-/conventions/rms/0900001680695175.

https://www.cnn.com/2019/10/04/tech/duolingo-endangered-languages-intl-hnk/index.html

Guillem Belmar, and Maggie Glass. “Virtual Communities as Breathing Spaces for Minority Languages: Re-Framing Minority Language Use in Social Media.” Adeptus 14 (2019): n. pag. Web.

Mcmonagle, Sarah. “The European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages: Still Relevant in the Information Age?” Journal on ethnopolitics and minority issues in Europe 11.2 (2012): 1–24. Web.
“Lithuania Population (LIVE).” Worldometer, www.worldometers.info/world-population/lithuania-population/.

The New Neutral

By C. Nowak

When I arrived on campus for my first year of college in 2011, I quickly became acquainted with the practice of being asked for my personal pronouns when meeting new people. In those first weeks of college, when every face was new and when I was trying desperately to learn the unwritten rules of the school, I was asked the question over and over. In one house meeting I attended, a fellow first-year student answered that she used feminine pronouns and gestured to her outfit with a laugh as if to say, “Of course, I’m a woman. Look at me.” She earned herself a correction from the meeting’s leader; one can’t assume a person’s gender or pronouns based on how they dress or present themselves. The question was not a joke, and answers must be taken seriously.

Most of my peers at this women’s college were cisgender women and were expected to answer with a flat “I prefer she/her pronouns.” But in most large groups, especially among upperclassmen (upperclasspeople?), there would be some who would state a preference for “he/him” or for a neutral or non-binary pronoun. The question was so common in both social and academic situations that the college’s Office for Equity and Inclusion eventually published an official explanation of pronoun etiquette.

In Massachusetts in 2011, non-binary pronouns took several different forms: they/them was the most common, but I encountered people during my college years who used ze/zir, xe/xem, and ey/em. These neo-pronouns were viewed by some students as a solution to the perceived problems of the singular epicene they/them. Was they too impersonal? Should you say, “They are…” or “They is…”? Would others be more reluctant to accept a shift in usage for an old word than the creation of a new word?

Back then, the use of they to refer to a single, known person was a hotly contested issue, as discussed in The New York Times Magazine’s “On Language” column in 2009. According to the article, the singular usage was accepted by some dictionaries and style guides and rejected by others, but the pronoun was well on its way to becoming standard. The article also cites significant literary precedent for the epicene they, dating back centuries, indicating that this use of the word is not as novel as it may appear to some linguistic conservatives.

They’s big moment in mainstream grammar finally arrived in 2019, when Merriam-Webster named it “Word of the Year.” The dictionary noted its increasing popularity to refer to non-binary people and mentioned some famous cases of non-binary people in the media from the year.

As much ink has been spilled in recent years on the epicene pronoun(s), the English language seems to be adapting. In English, changes in gender are a simple matter of replacement: only the pronoun needs to change in most sentences. But in other languages, like French, changing the grammatical gender of a subject or subject pronoun has implications for many other parts of the sentence, and the rigid grammatical structure has not yet been bent by pioneering linguistic activists. 

In a grammatically correct French sentence, many parts of a sentence are gendered, and the genders must agree. Creating a sentence about a non-binary individual in French is not simply a matter of deciding on personal pronouns, but also agreement of adjectives, articles, nouns, compound verbs and impersonal pronouns. There is an assertion by some French grammarians that the masculine form itself can be used as a sort of neutral or “unmarked” form. This is because in many cases in contemporary French, masculinity takes priority over femininity. For example, famously, a group of 100 women and 1 man would be referred to using the masculine plural ils instead of the feminine plural elles, despite the womens’ overwhelming majority. Recently, there have been several vehement rejections of this idea, especially by linguist Éliane Viennot in her 2014 book, Non, le masculin ne l’emporte pas sur le féminin! 

If the need for language to discuss non-binary people is becoming more and more accepted in English, then what about non-binary people in French-speaking countries? To what extent have Francophone non-binary people been able to adjust French’s rigid grammar to suit their needs? French feminists and professional women have seen significant success in in the last few years to normalize so-called “gender inclusive” terms in professional contexts: for example, calling a woman president la présidente instead of le président and allowing other parts of the sentence to agree with that gender-swapped title. This kind of alteration to professional titles was the subject of significant popular debate in France in the latter half of the 20th century, but has become quite commonplace in the 21st century. This shows that there is some flexibility for the French grammar system to change alongside French society.

In response to Merriam-Webster’s “Word of the Year” announcement in 2019, Huffpost France published an article about how the singular epicene pronoun is sorely missing in French, while noting that some alternative pronouns are gaining in popularity, notably iel and ille. But just as when I was an undergraduate in the US, there does not appear to be universal agreement on which pronoun(s) will best suit the needs of non-binary French speakers. Other alternatives include: yel, ul, ol, olle, ael, ielle, æl, aël, im, em, ulle, al, i, and el. Beyond pronouns, there have been suggestions for modifications to the French grammar system, but they all deviate significantly from the standard.

The French language can be slow to adopt linguistic changes that reflect societal changes. Within France, the official agency that regulates language, the Académie Française has been known to take conservative stances on alterations to the language, especially with regard to gender issues like the inclusive professional titles cited above. The Académie has no power to enforce its rules within French society, but its declarations on proper usage are widely accepted by French-speakers in France and around the world. English, on the other hand, with its unwieldy, ungovernable flexibility seems much more capable of adapting to the reality of gender in the 21st century.

Louisiana Holds Tight to its French-Speaking Heritage Despite Historical and Present-Day Barriers

By Karaleigh Saar

Louisiana, with its rich history of diverse inhabitants, is known as an (albeit small) corner of the francophone, or French-speaking, world. Though the territory, itself, passed through many hands before being ceded to the Americans in 1803, the French language is still a staple of the cultural groups who had long since made their homes there, such as the Acadians, who came from Nova Scotia. The Acadian people speak their own distinct dialect of French that differs slightly from the standard metropolitan French with an incorporation of both Spanish and Native American words. The predominately white Acadian people are more commonly referred to now as Cajun. 

Though generations of Cajun families in Louisiana had created a rich French-speaking culture, an American push for monolingualism and the establishment of English as the sole language of instruction in 1921 led Cajuns to lose faith in their own culture. Many Cajun people were denied the ability to speak their language, as it was no longer taught even at the high school level, and the speaking of Cajun French was stigmatized in general. It was not until 1968 that there was a serious resurgence of efforts to preserve French in Louisiana. With the creation of the Council for the Development of French in Louisiana (CODOFIL), the state sanctioned the preservation of French as a cultural cornerstone of Louisiana. The first step to preserve the language was to develop a French language education program, which they had to build practically out of thin air. 

Due to assimilationist policies enforced by the English-speaking majority and its institutions, entire generations of Cajun people found themselves being publicly shamed and punished for their French-speaking. The fear and punishment that these generations experienced influenced the decision for many to not carry on the language to their children. Louisiana soon found itself with a shortage of eligible local French teachers to start their program with. Not only was there a lack of native Louisiana speakers, but in the early years, the leadership of CODOFIL viewed Cajun French unfavorably compared to standard metropolitan French, even going so far as to say that Cajun French is broken and ungrammatical. As a solution, native French-speaking educators were imported from countries such as France, Belgium, and Canada. Even now, teachers from all over the francophone world are finding their way to Louisiana to continue the legacy of French in regions all throughout the state. 

This brings us to the eager-to-teach Alice Renard, a Parisian schoolteacher who relocated to Mamou, Louisiana this past summer (2019). Mamou is an agricultural town located about three hours from New Orleans, and—much unlike Paris—it is home to only around 3,200 people. Ms. Renard is one of the native French-speaking teachers who was recruited from abroad to serve in CODOFIL’s French immersion and French as a Second Language programs in 2019. According to the Louisiana Office of Cultural Development’s website, this year’s group of teachers is composed of educational professionals coming from France, Belgium, Canada, and even Mali. Encouragingly, there are also a few teachers who are Louisiana natives, although no exact numbers were shared. 

While it is uplifting to read about the linguistic opportunities being offered to more and more Cajun descendants or just Louisiana school children as a whole, by examining the case of young Ms. Renard, it becomes clear that however enthusiastic the resurgence of French education in Louisiana has become, there is still a distinct lack of education in Cajun French as well as a not-so-subtle language hierarchy in place. Ms. Renard was not shy to admit that she was rather unprepared to teach any of the Cajun French dialect. Her students—the majority of whom have traditionally Cajun last names such as Desormeaux, Guillory, Thiboudeaux—will be learning and speaking hexagonal French that would most likely be nearly unrecognizable to their Cajun ancestors. In fact, according to an article by Barry Jean Ancelet, the teaching of metropolitan French just enforces the idea in older Cajun communities that their dialect is inadequate. I find it important to note here that there are certain efforts being made to teach and legitimize Cajun French as a written form; however, these efforts are not central to the basic framework of the Louisiana educational system. Nevertheless, many belonging to the small school’s community seem to be earnestly enlivened by the program. The elementary school’s principal, Mitchell Troy Fontenot, is an example of a Louisianan with grandparents who primarily spoke French and who, reflecting on his inability to speak the language, remarked that the children in Ms. Renard’s class “are going to have so many more opportunities than we had.” 

Louisiana is but one of many centers of bilingual and immersion schools in the country, and the numbers continue to grow. As explained by Robert Slater, a senior fellow at the American Councils for International Education, the United States has seen a “growth explosion” over the last decade of dual-language immersion programs that are not specified only to French, but also feature programs with Spanish, Russian, and Mandarin. As of 2019, it has been estimated that there are at least 3,000 such language immersion programs in the United States. What’s more, is that seemingly, the students who are enrolled in these dual-language programs are surpassing their monolingually-educated peers. Therefore, the question is not whether or not programs such as the one in Mamou, LA are beneficial to the students. It is clear to see that the course of action taken by the state of Louisiana to create French immersion programs is opening new horizons for the up-and-coming generations. The real question is whether appointing foreign teachers with little to no knowledge of Cajun culture and dialect are actually helping to preserve Cajun culture, in the long run. In my opinion, the answer would be no. 

While criticizing a small and under-funded organization such as CODOFIL may not add to the solution, one has to wonder whether the celebration of French culture that is taking place might be more superficial than genuine. In a 2018 video about the resurgence of French in Louisiana, CODOFIL executive director Peggy Feehan clearly emphasizes the economic and touristic benefits of the French-speaking culture in Louisiana. Therefore, it seems that the culture that Cajun people were once punished for claiming has become an economic opportunity for the state. Hopefully in spite of this, Cajun language and culture can continue to rebuild footing in Louisiana and be shared for generations more. 

Sources

Ancelet, Barry Jean. “A Perspective on Teaching the ‘Problem Language’ in Louisiana.” The French Review, vol. 61, no. 3, 1988, pp. 345–356. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/393154. Accessed 6 May 2020.

New French Teachers Arrive in Louisiana, www.crt.state.la.us/cultural-development/codofil/news/new-french-teachers-arrive-in-louisiana-2016.

Fausset, Richard. “Louisiana Says ‘Oui’ to French, Amid Explosion in Dual-Language Schools.” The New York Times , 23 Aug. 2019, Louisiana Says ‘Oui’ to French, Amid Explosion in Dual-Language Schools.

Steele, Jennifer L, et al. “Dual-Language Immersion Programs Raise Student Achievement in English.” Rand Corporation, 2017, https://www.rand.org/pubs/research_briefs/RB9903.html.

Thiery, Clément. “The Rebirth of Cajun French in Louisiana in Classrooms and Online.” France-Amérique, 15 Mar. 2018, https://france-amerique.com/en/the-rebirth-of-cajun-french-in-louisiana-in-classrooms-and-online/.